So Cold
by Xzero
Summary: Trapped within the darkness and cold of eternal night, can Ranma find a way to live again? Will the remnants of the Wrecking Crew welcome this ghost among them? Find out. R
1. On Ice

Time stood still as he gripped the staff. _I won't lose. I NEVER LOSE._ He thought as the fireball bore down on him. The staff pierced his flesh and he could feel the pain of his flesh being frozen. He winced as the icy numbness enveloped him before the oncoming heat. It was now or never. A few seconds more and he would be frozen forever within this icy tomb. The warmth never came. He'd expected the blast to strike him. He turned with the last of his power to see the scorched earth where the others once stood. A tear fell from the now lifeless blue orbs as he felt the freezing finish. "I'm sorry." The words hung in the air, booming in a deafening whisper, louder even than the gloating voice of his foe. The Gekkaja, it was still plunged into him, merged with his flesh and locked by the magical power that drove it.

Saffron was furious; he had wanted to defeat the landling with his own power, not by letting the boy freezing himself. With a roar he loosed a massive fireball, intent on melting the mortal free, only to have another blast of imperial fire scour the filthy commoner from his sacred domain. He heaved, breathing hard after using so much power in a single blast. He returned his gaze on the frozen form of the landling, and could do nothing but gape at the solid ice statue. He'd given that burst everything. He would have to land and inspect the mortal.

The phoenix king's eyes widened as he saw it. No, how, how could he have been foolish enough to allow the landling to completely freeze himself with the artifact? Damn it, he would never be able to muster the strength to thaw the mortal. The power of the staff would keep him locked in that state forever. With a sigh the king of the mountain turned away, coming to face his seneschal. "Kiima, this landling has frozen himself with the Gekkaja; there is no power to thaw him. He will be moved to the treasury, amidst magical artifacts, and there he will remain. I fear that in our battle, I allowed things to go too far." Remorse? Why? Why did he feel these things? Say these things? It must simply be his regret for not defeating his foe with his own hands.

It would be a long time coming before Ranma Saotome again saw the light of day.

**So Cold**

By: XZero

Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 belongs to Rumiko Takahashi.

**Prologue - On Ice**

_Cold_

_Everything, nothing, cold._

_Where am I?_

Everything was hazy, as if the world had been encompassed by a thick mist. Where was he? Why couldn't he move? Sleep, yes, sleep would be nice.

_No!_

He refused to succumb to the cold, refused to allow himself to fall victim to the seductive embrace of the ice. His view of the world was brightening, though it was still fuzzy, as if looking through a pane of ice.

_Ice, why is my entire world coated in ice?_

_Why can't I move?_

Memories flooded through his mind. A wound, fire, loss, then the world went black, and there was nothing but cold. Nothing but ice.

_Ice_

A shockwave rang throughout the hallowed mountain of the phoenix people. The soldiers, the priests, and the king all felt rather than heard the earth shattering roar of power. Veterans of the king's royal guard stopped their doings in shock, surprising their young students, and startling others as a look of pure horror crossed the weathered faces of their mentors.

The seneschal to the lord Saffron, God King of the Phoenix, lifted her head wide-eyed as she felt a power she'd thought long since extinguished.

"Lord Saffron, he's awoken." She whispered to the small egg clutched in her arms as she stood to meet the warrior as he arose from his slumber. She stood near the center of the almost overwhelming tide of spiritual power.

"His power is greater than I remembered. Are you sure this is wise?" The egg seemed to pulse in response, soliciting a sigh from the silver haired avian woman.

"I understand Lord Saffron, I merely meant to express my concern his disposition toward our people. You and he did not part on the best of terms." Again a pulse from the core of the egg seemed to answer. She bowed her head, this time taking a couple of breaths before pushing the ornate gilded doors open with a grunted thrust. The storage of artifacts, both magical and mundane took a large section of the royal treasury, and it was celebrated universally by the people. Younglings came to view the treasures and relics and always left in awe. The children of late were even more so in awe than those in the past. The latest addition to the collection within these hallowed halls was the raven haired landling whom had impaled himself with the icy staff that was tied to the dragon tap.

_Power, anger, sadness._

_Life, despair, light._

Kiima could only stare on as the emotions hung heavy in the air, washing over her in a deluge of raw feeling. She watched stupefied by his display as the statue in which he was frozen shook violently as light swirled within. At first, cracks spread over the surface in a myriad of spider web shapes, until she was sure that the crystalline form should have shattered. Fissures opened in the surface and steam erupted from within. She looked in horror as the light stopped twirling, and seemed to intensify suddenly, before exploding outward, shards of crystal ice peppering the room. Kiima's instincts had saved her, but even as she peeked out from behind her cover she saw him. A luminous man shaped being of power. Every inch of his naked flesh was nearly too painful for her to look upon. Her attention was taken to the suit of armor that had spared her the deadly shower of ice, and the javelin shaped spines that protruded from its polished surface. Hailstones littered the floor, but swiftly melted under the intense heat of the warrior's fury. What undertaking had she agreed to?

* * *

_Atop Phoenix Mountain_

All involved in the battle stared dumbly out at the frozen form of their friend. Ryouga though, knowing that Ranma's sacrifice could not be made in vain hurried to gather the Akane doll and ran toward the tap. Blades met his approach of the tap and he halted short. He looked up to see the grim expression on the avian girl Kiima.

"Kiima, let them pass, there has been enough loss today, help them save that girls life." Something had changed in Lord Saffron; he was no longer the child who'd been spoiled by decadence and power. This was the man she remembered from her childhood, the one who'd chosen her to be the guardian of his infant incarnation.

"Yes Lord Saffron." She sheathed her sword in a single swift motion, and helped the boy open the tap that would restore to the girl her original form. "Hurry, her time is short." And so he dunked the doll, watching amazed as her form expanded, returning to the short haired girl that he'd loved for so long.

"Akane." He whispered as she stirred.

"Ranma" Her voice was soft, barely a whisper of the normally volcanic tone. Ryouga was not discouraged, he'd known her feelings for the pigtailed teen, and knew now that she would need a friend, not a lovestruck idiot. It would be a long time coming before she could come to terms with the loss of her fiancée. It would be along time until any of them would be able to live free of the memory of Ranma.

To Be Continued?

A/N: This was actually written on a limb, if you all like it enough, I guess I'll continue. I have a rough idea of where this is going.


	2. Awakened Spirit

**So Cold**

By: XZero

Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 belongs to Rumiko Takahashi

**Chapter 1 - Awakened Spirit

* * *

**

**I'm alive, how?**

**Gekkaja...**

**How could I have been so foolish?**

His internal monologue ended he looked around, trying to take stock of his situation. The room he now stood in was vast, and he'd been atop a pedestal, this much different from the last sight he'd had, standing where he'd landed after using the Gekkaja to freeze himself. Saffron's flames had leapt past him, toward the others. He remembered pressing the crescent blade into his abdomen, and felt a numb pressure from it. Even as he looked down, he knew what he would find. True to his thought, embedded in his stomach was the artifact of the phoenix people. With a snort he ripped the bladed staff out of his flesh. He wasn't even bleeding. He stifled a growl, trying to maintain his objectivity, immersing himself in the soul of ice.

Holding the staff he could feel its power reacting in time with his will, from him and the blade a thin layer of frost began to form. He saw something, a wisp of breath escaping from behind a frozen and shredded suit of western plate mail armor. His eyes widened in recognition of the other occupant of the room.

"Come out!" He ordered loudly in Kiima's direction. She hesitated, but eventually came out. Though she began to wish she hadn't as the teen's eyes narrowed dangerously, becoming slits of furious light against his already luminous form.

"You." He growled, staring not at her, but at the warm egg that sat huddled against her chest. "What are you doing here?" He asked the egg, and strangely enough, it responded. Pulsing in a rhythm she knew well.

_'I have come to lay before you an apology. I was spoiled by the nobles of that incarnation. For stealing your youth, and the generation in which you belonged and for the crime of threatening your loved ones I offer you my sincerest apologies. In an attempt at reparations I also offer you the sacred weapons of my people, the Kinjakan and Gekkaja. The staves I hope will serve you well.'_

It was a lot to take in. What did he mean? Why could he understand him? His eyes wandered until they found a polished mirror nearby. What he saw shocked him beyond anything else he'd seen since his awakening from the frozen tomb.

"What am I?" He wondered aloud, staring at the being before him.It was strange; his entire body was bathed in a golden light, not unlike his normal battle aura, but why?

_'I do not know. I can only imagine it to be a subconscious method of keep from being frozen entirely while trapped within your prison of ice.' _ Great, now he was getting advice from an egg. Worse, the egg was the same being that the last time they had met had killed his family and friends.

"You killed them. How could you?" He yelled at first, but suddenly his words were a pitiable whisper as the memories hit him, crushing his spirit beneath the thoughts. The aura shifted until it was the same sickly green as the Shi Shi Hokodan. The words made it to Kiima's ears, and her shock was great. She could feel the rising depression rolling off of him in waves.

"No! Lord Saffron didn't kill them, he threw the fireball in front of them, and they moved. He stopped them from getting too close. I moved to stop them from reaching the dragon tap but Lord Saffron ordered me to let them pass, to help them save the girl, Akane." Kiima was pleading, not something he'd expect from the silver haired phoenix woman.

Confliction struck him, his memory told him one thing, but now, this pleading woman, tears spilling from her eyes had told him another side of things. Damnit, why did things always get complicated?

It hit him; Saffron had mentioned his generation, which in turn told him something, something he desperately needed. "How long?" Another barely audible sentence, Kiima had strained to hear it. Gods above and before her, why? Why did she have to do this to him? Over the years it had become a sore spot in her memory, this boy, no, he was a man, more a man than any of the veterans whom had during his time been mere cadets. He knew sacrifice, he knew pain. She had spent a great long time learning about the enigmatic and charismatic young man whom had so long been trapped within the ice, and within these halls. Why did she have to deliver such a harsh blow to him?

"Twenty years." She whispered, ashamed of the syllables that issued from her mouth. The temperature was dropping steadily, though it suddenly leveled out as her lowered gaze caught sight of his body lying inert on the floor, no longer covered by the brilliance.

"Ranma?" She asked tentatively, hoping he'd not broken free of his tomb merely to die from taxing his energy stores for so long and then bursting free. She sighed heavily with relief when she found a pulse, his breathing shallow but steady. Wisps of smoke emerged from his lips as the warm breath met the cold air of the chamber. That was a fear abated, but now it came to her to move him where he might be cared for.

"Lord Saffron, what have we gotten ourselves into?" She whispered as she set the egg in the sash she wore across her chest. Her burden was inexplicably heavy, though his definition seemed to explain it. His muscles must merely be a great deal denser than she believed before. She grunted in effort for only a moment before gathering him into a fireman's carry. What came when he awoke would be the longest period of her life.

* * *

_  
Village of the Joketsuzoku_

Ku Lon, the eldest matriarch of her people was startled from her meditation by a life force she'd believed long extinguished. _'It's impossible. No one could survive being trapped by that staff for so long. Dear Goddess, his chi is immeasurable.' _The thoughts seemed to collect upon her. _'Who am I kidding, that boy did the impossible many times over, and this... this is just too much. It must be investigated.'_ She stood her legs half asleep from her long period of reflection. She gripped her gnarled staff with equally gnarled hands as she limped toward her goal. '_I must tell Xian Pu.'_ She knew what her great granddaughter would do, and wholeheartedly agreed. The rest of the tribe must never find him; he was too far beyond them all now. Saffron had been a match only for his skill before, but now, with a power capable of competing with the Phoenix God, she could think of none to match him. She only hoped he never found reason to be angry with them. For her to have felt that much power this far, oh it truly was frightening to imagine.

Her hurried pace did nothing to aid her as moments later the power seemed to wink out of existence, confusing her and making her question her sanity.

"Did I feel the boy's power or not? Am I going senile?"

* * *

_  
Musk Citadel_

___'That power? Saotome? Could it be? How?'_

Herb had been training, trying to perfect a new technique. He'd been devastated when he'd gone to Japan, having traveled the distance to face off with Saotome once again. He wanted to release his restraints against a true opponent, to free himself from the shackles around his power. He arrived at the address the pigtailed fighter had left him, only to find that his somewhat friend had been dead for so long. Strangely, it was the wild haired bandana clad martial artist, Ryouga, who'd given him the words he now used to forge ahead.

___'Ranma always trained, always. Not because of us, we only made him train harder. He didn't fear us for our strength; we only made him master himself to be stronger. He trained because he wanted the best of himself, to challenge every limit. I learned that the hard way, when I watched my best friend kill himself trying to live and save us all.'_

Ryouga's words had been something from an epic, some lamentation of a long dead hero, not the words Herb had expected Saotome's rival. They had their effect though, since that day Herb had trained his hardest, poured his all into the art, leaving room only for the mild duties he faced in court. He would train himself until he could no longer stand, and the moment he could begin again, he would. He would become the best he was able, not for Ranma, not for the Musk, but for himself, Ryouga's words had become the maxim by which he lived.

___'Saotome is alive. I've got to see this for myself.' _Herb rushed from his training, his tired breaths forgotten as new energy filled him.

* * *

___  
Nerima - Tendo Dojo_

Ryouga grunted as he increased the weight again, investing more weight into the normal seeming umbrella. He had taken to doing this when he was able to move his weighted weapon without conscious effort, so far it amounted to once every six months, though now, he had become so accustomed to increasing the weight that it seemed a routine. The advanced application of the Iron Cloth technique drained him, and taxed his ki reserves, in turn making them deeper. His control of the release of his energy had grown, and now, there was no other among the former Nerima Wrecking Crew that was his equal. Most of the others had settled down, others still had receded into madness at the loss of that which they coveted. As for him, he'd taken to training with renewed vigor.

"Ryo-Chan, are you in the dojo?" That voice, how he loved the sound of it. He smiled as he finished and turned his head toward the door.

"Yeah, 'Kane, I'm in here." He smiled again warmly at her presence. After nearly fifteen years of marriage you would think he'd have gotten used to it, but every here and there it again struck him how lucky he was to be married to such a wonderful woman. His smile darkened as he recalled the days of his youth, the days of carefree adventure.

_____'Ranma, I'm sorry it turned out this way, but I promise you I'm taking care of her, just like you would want.' _He heard the sound of the dojo doors open, and her footfalls came at him despite her attempts at stealth. She had gotten immeasurably better, but he had been light-years ahead before the birth of their daughter, but after her recovery and the time consumed by caring for him, she was decades behind his level.

"Ryouga, Rei-Chan had a dream last night." She began slowly, almost afraid of her words. Ryouga looked up at her quizzically, his expression blank. His eyes told her that she should elaborate.

"She said that a man with funny hair and blue eyes was coming, and that when he got here, the bad men would come." Akane had never spoken so cryptically, had never looked so afraid. But something drew his attention away from the fear written so plainly across her features; it was a piece of paper in her hand that drew his eyes. He reached out a hand, gesturing absently, and she obliged him.

He studied the drawings that covered the page intently, and with no little amount of weight before finally letting it drop from his numb fingertips. His mind was racing frantically, and he could not find the power to draw more breath than it took to utter a single word.

"Ranma..."

To Be Continued...

A/N: I hope that you all enjoy this, because it has been coming ever since I got back from North Dakota (never go there, is scary and empty) Anyhow, as always, I beg you review and let me know what's good and what needs work.


	3. Without

"She said that a man with funny hair and blue eyes was coming, and that when he got here, the bad men would come." Akane had never spoken so cryptically, had never looked so afraid. But something drew his attention away from the fear written so plainly across her features; it was a piece of paper in her hand that drew his eyes. He reached out a hand, gesturing absently, and she obliged him.

He studied the drawings that covered the page intently, and with no little amount of weight before finally letting it drop from his numb fingertips. His mind was racing frantically, and he could not find the power to draw more breath than it took to utter a single word.

"Ranma..."

**So Cold**

By: XZero

Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 belongs to Rumiko Takahashi

**Chapter 2** – Without

_Royal Gardens - Mount Phoenix_

"Saffron, this is getting on my nerves, I know you have enough power to hatch from that damn egg, so why don't you?": Ranma was getting irritated, he understood the way that the Phoenix King was communicating, he wasn't sure how he understood, but something in the ki that emanated from the glowing egg told him all he needed to know.

_'I lose the knowledge of all my incarnations during the childhood stage of my growth. It is only now and when I mature to my true form that I am able to recall all of my previous incarnations. If I am to be of any aid to you, I must remain as such. I am only glad that you awoke during this particular stage of my development, otherwise, I may not have been able to help.'_

Ranma could only nod, that made sense.

"What do you mean though by help, what could you possibly do to help me?" He felt ridiculous, talking to a damned egg. His frustration was externalized by flares across the surface of his body. Kami, what had he become? He couldn't control himself anymore, and that alone was almost unbearable.

To his shame a similar unconscious expression of his emotions had occurred when he had awakened from a nightmare. He could not remember the dream; he rarely could, even before everything that had happened. This time though... He'd been in a bed within the Phoenix King's private chambers, being watched over by a youngish phoenix girl. He could barely remember being awake again before the strange filter slid over his vision. He knew in that instant that he was once again sheathed within a corona of his own life energy. Surprised, the girl had called out, and in turn startled him. Without any thought of the situation he unleashed a wave of ki that knocked the girl from her chair, pinning her to the floor under the weight of his expanding aura. Through his haze Ranma had barely realized what he'd done. Most frightening of all was the strain of keeping the power back, pulling it back into himself again was far harder than gathering every ounce of ki he'd ever gathered before. Trying to reign it all in seemed to be a lost cause, and so he found that restraining it to coating himself was the best that his frayed concentration could manage. Even then, that he was human was barely recognizable.

'_No! Ranma, you must relax. Do not force your power to subside. Instead you must pull it into you, as your body is the container for your spirit. Right now you produce more energy than you can hold, and so must deepen your reservoirs to manage this strength, until you can pull it all into you, you will not be able to control it. Your emotions run unchecked because your spirit mirrors your mood. If you are angry you will lash out at whatever is nearest. Your spirit will reflect your ire. If you are to reintegrate this you must first find your center and begin the exercises. I understand well how it feels to have immense power and a control of this that is questionable at best.'_

He wanted control of this power, wanted to be human again, but he knew now that it would take time and training to control the immense stores of energy he felt within himself. The energy from the air seemed to want to rush into him as well, and he'd learned that feeling was out of the question, the aura seemed to filter all sensation out of his life, and even now he'd not eaten since emerging from his prison. Energy, spiritual energy from around him fueled his body, or, he assumed it did, since at all times his body was drawing in energy from the air, warmth, he knew. The only sensation he truly could feel was the terrible cold. It filled him, and at times, he lust for warmth drove him to fits of frustrated anger. Those were the most dangerous aspects of him now, his emotions solicited extreme reactions, and so he had to be careful. Saffron's words stayed in his mind, warning him of the danger of his emotions. As much as warmth appealed him, he stayed firmly within the soul of ice most days.

Was this the result of it all? That he could never feel warmth again? The gentle warmth of the spring sun beat on him while he pondered these things, and still nothing but a chill breeze passed his skin. Despair seemed to grow exponentially by the day and with it the danger of something escaping his icy shell. The soul of ice wasn't cutting it; the wall of frost between him and his emotions was thinning as the bitter cold refused to relent to the sunlight against his skin.

It he was sweating, he couldn't feel it. It was disturbing, fatigue was a constant, and every action he took seemed to require more energy than it should. Even the minimalist movements he'd trained to become reflex required great deals of energy.

**Why?**

Was it because there wasn't truly anything to him beneath the energy? Was his metabolism eating him away without the subconscious draw of energy from his surroundings? It would explain things, like the strange energy that he felt within his ki, something not quite normal. It felt like when he held the staves. The staves! How could he have been so foolish, that was it, the energy, from the staff it must have something to do with his predicament? He knew now what Saffron had meant, and now, he felt he was ready to accept the help the egg offered.

* * *

_Joketsuzoku Village of the Amazons_

Ku Lon nearly tripped over herself in excitement as once again during meditation she felt that familiar spirit become a blaze of power in the distance. She leapt up to her feet and crowed with excitement.

"Yes, I knew it!" She searched the area for her staff and upon finding it hurried away. House husbands scurried from her path as she made the way to her great granddaughter's home. Several fainted seeing an elder of her stature cackling the way she was. It bore ill for them, or so they thought.

The old woman's fist struck the door of her Great Granddaughter's home several times. He voice cracking as her excitement was barely restrained. Her eyes were wild and demeanor manic. Disregarding the door she opened it with a negligent shove. She called out again as she entered the building.

"Granddaughter!" The old woman exclaimed, her voice creaking in an awful pattern. It was a weary looking Xian Pu who'd answered her call; a child nestled against her breast. "Yes great grandma?" She responded tiredly, shifting her precious burden slightly.

"He's alive!" The old woman's eyes gleamed with unbridled excitement and joy as she said the words. Her emphasis on the word he was enough to convince Xian of her meaning. The haggard woman's mind went numb, but still she steadfastly held on to her child.

"Great grandma, if Ranma alive..." She could not bring to words the chaos that would ensue if the village found out; they would try to acquire him for the tribe. Ranma had been too powerful at his apparent death, but now, if he was powerful enough to free himself from the Gekkaja's powerful magic, than nothing short of a miracle would save them.

"What do we do?" She asked dumbly.

* * *

_Musk Citadel - Great Hall_

"Mint! Lime! I need you to deliver a message to Japan." He spoke in almost conspiratorial tones, not wanting the information he was going to share to become common knowledge.

"Saotome is alive; you must go to Japan, seek out Ryouga Hibiki and inform him of the news. He will most certainly be doubtful, but inform him that it is from me." Herb was almost ecstatic, his most potent enemy was alive once more, and perhaps this time, they would fight in friendly competition. Ranma was indeed powerful now, and Herb wished to test himself against this power.

* * *

_A Graveyard - Nerima_

A feeling of cold emptiness permeated the hillside on which they stood. Under the shade of an oak the pair said a prayer, and smiled at the pleasant memories they had of the two men whose names were forever locked in stone atop the grassy knoll.

"Saotome Genma Father, Husband, Artist"

"Tendo Soun Father, Widower, Artist"

Such simple words conveyed the sum of their lives. These men had given everything to their life's work, and despite stumbles that caused them to stray from their path, they steadfastly continued, striving for their dream. Akane missed her father, while Ryouga missed his mentors. Without Ranma both had felt the need to pass on their skills, and Ryouga was willing to take up that cross.

"Don't worry Akane; everything will be fine, you'll see. I'm sure Rei-Chan was just having a dream." His words were comforting to her. Their daughter's dreams had featured the same pigtailed fighter every night for weeks. It was becoming frightening the visions that the girl was having. Each time she spoke of him her voice was somehow greater than before, as if she were merely the vessel for the words.

"But..." Akane began, until she felt the tips of his fingers brush her lips. Her eyes had misted, but she looked upward, into his own expressive orbs, seeking shelter from her fears, from this nightmare, from the memories.

"I promise Akane, I promise. Everything will be fine." Ryouga took her arm and gently led her from the graveyard after offering a final prayer. It was only moments after they were gone that the headstones they had just stood over cracked.

* * *

_Mount Phoenix - Northern Training Hall_

Parry, thrust, snap, spin. Slash, straight punch, side thrust kick. Even at blinding speeds his motions were controlled, precise. It was inspiring, his energy well was deep, but it hadn't affected the one thing he truly loved, the Art. Snap kick, roundhouse, thrust, slash. He was a storm of power barely held within mortal flesh. Power, yes, he could feel the call of his power. He wanted so desperately to release it, it hurt to contain. No! He wouldn't, control, life was about control of one's self, power over one's base urges. He'd never give up such a core principle of the art, no matter how much it hurt.

His kata ended abruptly, signaled by the twin orbs of life energy he'd whipped outward, flung forth in arcs of aurulent power. He wouldn't give in to the want to release the power, the want to end everything. He would master it, himself. His vision swam as he smiled under the ridiculous strain he'd put on his body. Every muscle burned from his crazed exercise. It would take time, but he'd train his body to master his spirit.

His observer could only shake her head and sigh at his display. She began toward him with a soft chuckle and a shake of her head. He was light enough for her to carry, and glad for it as she gathered his battered form in her arms.

"Can't do anything the easy way can you?" Kiima chuckled as she headed home.

* * *

_A Cave Somewhere_

Within the darkness something changed. Where before the roiling oily darkness had been insubstantial, suddenly it was corporeal, pulsating like a cancerous growth on the Earth's surface. A creature no longer fit to be called human stepped from the mouth of the cave, its twisted grin malignant and awful, spreading wide over wizened cheeks long since sunken. A wheezing breath, bubbled, and eventually formed a cackle like only a banshee could match. When finally the being's laughter ceased words in a voice broken and unsteady issued into the night.

"Finally, the time draws near." After those four words the creature's horrible laughter began anew, this time unbridled. Finally the eyes that glowed sickly yellow in the darkness closed once again.

"Finally, the boy is awakened." The darkness shuddered, and the wildlife quieted as the laughter rose once more.

To Be Continued...

A/N: Sorry this took so long, RL has been hell between getting a new job and trying to deal with the other crap piling up. As always any input you all have would be great. I realize that it may seem like Ranma is going to be a god walking amongst ants, but I promise you, that while he is immensely powerful, people like Ryouga, Herb, hell, even Taro are going to be stronger still. While he is powerful, he doesn't have control over that power, and so, like it was against Saffron in the manga, a precision attack will overcome raw strength. I hope to get the next one out before Christmas.


	4. Finding the Balance

Within the darkness something changed. Where before the roiling oily darkness had been insubstantial, suddenly it was corporeal, pulsating like a cancerous growth on the Earth's surface. A creature no longer fit to be called human stepped from the mouth of the cave, its twisted grin malignant and awful, spreading wide over wizened cheeks long since sunken. A wheezing breath, bubbled, and eventually formed a cackle like only a banshee could match. When finally the being's laughter ceased words in a voice broken and unsteady issued into the night.

"Finally, the time draws near." After those four words the creature's horrible laughter began anew, this time unbridled. Finally the eyes that glowed sickly yellow in the darkness closed once again.

"Finally, the boy is awakened." The darkness shuddered, and the wildlife quieted as the laughter rose once more.

**So Cold**

By: XZero

Disclaimer: I own nothing

**Chapter 3** - Finding the Balance

_Royal Gardens - Mount Phoenix_

Two weeks had passed, yet nothing seemed to give, his training progressed at its usual phenomenal rate, yet the control he sought was still elusive. He could feel the power, could touch it, could shape it, but he could not restrain it, nor pull it into himself. It was so easy to lose himself to despair, but each time he came close a single thought sobered him. For every minute he let himself go it was another moment that he posed the risk of hurting someone. His emotions were reflected in the aura that surrounded him. Even now he felt nothing but cold. He wouldn't lose, couldn't, he wanted his humanity back.

With a growl he flung himself into another kata, his limbs blurring as he paused to lash out at invisible adversaries. With what seemed to be an invisible signal from the imagined battle, things were taken to the next level. He grunted from exertion as he faded from sight, luminous trails of light flashing throughout the training area. After-images appear two or three at a time and were replaced by others as they began to fade. A gleam of silver indicated that he'd drawn the key tools from their place on his back. Arcs of brilliance swirled around him; they were easily distinguished from his own aura by the opposing trails of energy that followed. With a loud snap the head of the Kinjakan separated from its body and flew outward in a deadly arc, slicing through the air cleanly. Ranma reappeared momentarily, the bent angle of the Gekkaja poised in a clawing attack while the Kinjakan was held at arms length as the ring at its top returned, a neat click signifying the completion of the job. The keys were returned to their position within the leather holsters on his back. She assumed he was pausing a moment for breath, but what followed was something out of a Japanese manga.

His scream was nearly primal as he visibly gathered immense amounts of power into his hands and pushed it forward and upward. Power shot out of his cupped palms and rocketed into the sky. The shaft of power was incredible, but wild, she could see the power spilling over, as the beam became unstable and broke. Several smaller beams tore through the wall before he brought it under reign once more and ended the attack.

She could hear his breathing, and it was shallow and heavy, but to her surprise he started again in what seemed to be a complimentary set of kata.

"Amazing." Kiima muttered in awe as she watched his kata, she'd had twenty years to continue training, and she had done so, thanking the long lifespan of her people for her continued vitality, but this, this was simply amazing. His skill was the same, his body was the same, but he was so much faster, and if the craters he'd left in the training areas within the mountain were any suggestion he was definitely stronger.

She'd thought the first would be the last, but as he continued his training she could see his liberal application of ki techniques in each junction. It was as if he was trying to exhaust himself, but it seemed as if it would never happen. Bursts of life energy filled the air as he threw dozens of small orbs into the sky. He paused for the motion only long enough to take once again to the air in a powerful leap. Shafts of light burned through the air and struck the surrounding mountains. Waves of energy emanated from him as barely restrained power flowed off him in waves. Finally, finished with this expulsion of power he descended from where he'd been held aloft by the force of his blasts.

"Ranma!" She called out, leaping down from her perch atop the wall. As she landed she took up a fighting stance. Her smirk was one he'd become familiar with, as it mirrored the one he himself used to wear during a challenge. His smile though was invisible, hidden largely by the brilliance that surrounded him. The pigtailed fighter had simply turned and acknowledged her offer with a change in his stance. He knew that she'd not fall for his usual "lazy" stance. Maybe it was a change in the wind, or an indistinct nod, something, but at an unspoken signal the two combatants threw themselves forward, locking in the first exchange of their match. Punches and kicks were unloaded with lethal precision and blocked just as expertly. Kiima quickly gained the upper hand; using techniques and ki applications she'd learned over the years to suppress his furious attacks. A lion dance knocked him away long enough for her to draw her sword. Kiima's hand to hand was good, but she was a swordswoman first and foremost. Her draw was matched with his own even as she closed in. The Kinjakan and Gekkaja went inactivated but were employed with as much skill as the displaced artist could manage. He was unsurprised when she held the upper hand here as well.

Twenty years was a lot of time to improve, and his contemporaries, at least, they used to be his contemporaries, would be light-years ahead in their training, if Kiima was any indication of the consensus of their power. Kiima had been a decent challenge then; her skill now though would be overwhelming if not for his tremendous ki reserves. He could augment his body to match her, but it was taxing his endurance greatly. Her blows were precise and measured to maneuver him, and for all he recognized what she was doing, he was powerless to stop it. Anything other than what she was guiding him toward would leave him open to attack. He was caught, and he knew it, but he wouldn't lose now, she was naturally stronger, faster, and years more skilled than he, but he'd not give up. If he was going to lose he was going to give it his all. An instant's concentration and his aura exploded around him, forcing her backward from her assault. He watched as she backed off and studied him again. The following engagement was taxing, but in the end she got him.

A sword stroke found the dragon key and pushed it out wide, just as she drew a short sword, forcing the phoenix tool outward as well. His defenses open she simply stepped forward, crossing her swords into a scissor resting at his throat. She gave him a questioning glance and with a sigh he nodded slightly.

"I yield." He said quietly. He'd lost, but then, he had been expecting to, though she had helped him gauge himself, it would take a great deal of time before he was in a league similar to those he'd once been the best among. He backed up a few steps and bowed. Kiima sheathed her weapons and did the same.

"You've gotten better." He said finally, though his voice was unreadable. She suspected he was upset, she could understand. He had once been the best, unstoppable, now though he was bested by her superior skill.

"I've had a long time to train Ranma. You'll get better, I know it. You are more powerful, but your control is lacking, but you know that. What I mean is that you're strong, frighteningly so, and when you can focus all of that the way you want, you'll be far more powerful than any of us. You know, when we first met, I considered you my inferior, that your lack of phoenix blood made you inherently less than myself. But you beat me, not physically, but every time we fought you dismissed my skills without paying me any real attention. I have to admit, that without that I would never have become as strong as I am now. Thank you." She had bowed her head at some point; she was blushing like a teenager, and for the life of her could not figure out why.

"Well, everyone has it in them to be strong, you just needed a shove." He paused, chuckling slightly as he caught on.

"Thanks." He said as he sobered.

* * *

_Throne Room - Phoenix Mountain_

"Prince Herb of the Musk to see Lord Saffron, Keeper of the Keys, God King of the Sacred Mountain!" The herald called from the doors as Herb strode forward into the grand hall. Saffron was of course hidden behind veils of silk. Herb knew that the Phoenix King was no more than an egg right now; his ki senses were sensitive enough to see his aura which was too small to be humanoid.

_'Prince Herb, We are gracious for your company, but We are curious. What brings you here from the lands of the Musk?'_ Saffron knew, he must've felt the surge of power as Ranma broke free of his prison. He wished this wasn't necessary, but protocol must be followed. He hated the workings, truly, but knew their worth.

Herb felt more than heard the words of the Lord of the Phoenix, and smiled at the air of mystique it granted. This would be more than enough to fool any regular dignitary or commoner who sought an audience with him, but he was no ordinary dignitary. The silver haired royal smirked at the thought; he couldn't be classified as ordinary in any case.

"I must admit, this is little more than a social visit. I felt recently a ki signature that is very distinctive, if much stronger than I remember. Saotome Ranma, the foreigner from across the sea. I was told years ago that he'd perished, yet I feel his power now emanating from the mountain. I have come to see him. He is known to me and my people. I wish to visit with him, that is, if your majesty has no grievances with such." Herb was another who held no love for the language of the court, but so long as he was forced he would follow them.

_'It is true that Saotome has escaped the ice prison that trapped him for so long. We owe him a great debt for the life he was robbed of. If he wishes to see you, there is no reason for Us to deny you. A steward will show you to quarters where you may refresh yourself and rest from your journey.'_ The smile was incorporeal, but relayed nonetheless in his next communication.

"I thank you, majesty. Your graciousness will be remembered. By your leave." Herb bowed, not in difference, but rather, in respect for his equal.

'_Go, rest, I will have Kiima bring Saotome to see you later, he is training right now I believe.'_ The formal speech was no longer required, and Saffron was glad for it. Formality ended when the official conversation between royalties ended, now it was him speaking to Herb.

* * *

_Joketsuzoku Village of the Amazons_

"No! Continued pursuit of Saotome is unwise; you were all present for the report of events my heir submitted. He is simply too powerful for us to control." Ku Lon addressed the other members of the council. She had been greatly disheartened to find that they too felt the surge of power.

"Ku Lon, your actions are out of line, this council will decide our course of action. This, male, Saotome, will submit to our will, since he was declared dead the kiss of marriage that he was under with your heir is noted. But the moment he leaves the lands of the phoenix we will send every available Amazon of age to challenge him. His blood must join ours." It was her greatest rival on the council who'd spoken and with the amount of vehemence in her tone Ku Lon knew that the sheep like members of the council would be with her. Ku Lon had been too secretive and gone too long back then; several of her friends on the council had retired to train their heirs. When she'd returned it had been to a drastically changed council consisting of women she remembered in swaddling clothes.

"Yes, besides, no male can truly be more powerful than an Amazon. Three thousand years of history and tradition shall overcome any power he may hope to possess." Another woman, possibly the youngest among the council members, no older than forty, spoke. The propaganda they fed their youth still strong in her mind.

"Fine, do as you will, but me and mine will not take part in this. Your actions will doom us all. Saotome and the Musk prince destroyed a mountain. That was years ago, and the power I felt was infinitely more powerful. You all may feel secure in your superiority, but as the saying goes. Pride cometh before a fall." Ku Lon rose steadily from her seat and made for the door. These women would be the fall of the Amazons, and she would not see that.

Ku Lon made her way toward her granddaughter's home; she had a task for Mu Tzu.

* * *

_A Beach Near Fukuoka - Japan_

Mint and Lime had finally made landfall, and were grateful for it. They were freezing and hungry. They had come to regret their decision to swim. It had been an arduous task to swim from Shanghai to Korea. It was even more so to do it again, this time from Busan to this tiny beach they had found. The lights in the distance told of a nearby city or town where they would get directions to the dojo.

They resolved to find a boat back.

* * *

_Tendo Dojo_

The raven haired Tendo smiled brightly as she finished another kata, she'd enjoyed the stories her mother had told her of her father and someone called Ranma. The two had apparently been rivals. Her mother had never told her what he looked like, but she knew. She remembered her dreams, could see things. She'd always seen things, but never told anyone. That is, until a couple weeks ago. Her mother had needed to know. She was almost twelve, she realized, it didn't seem that way. She saw things in this dojo especially. She'd read about things like this, and according to what she'd read, she was both a pre- and post-cognizant. It meant that she could see things that were going to happen or had already done so. Ranma would come here; he would return to the Tendo Dojo and with his arrival would come evil.

She wished she could tell them more, tell them what was to come, but she had learned that forewarning of things to come would only make things worse. With a sigh she began again.

To Be Continued...

A/N: I made it, consider this my Christmas present to you all. For anyone wondering, yes, I realize Rei seems a little mature for her age, but seeing images of the past can shatter the innocence of childhood, and her character will be fleshed out more in later chapters. Things will become clearer as the story progresses. Oh, and I realized that I had been using "Cologne" while referring to Shampoo as Xian Pu. I intend to fix that later.


	5. Messages

Ranma would come here; he would return to the Tendo Dojo and with his arrival would come evil.

She wished she could tell them more, tell them what was to come, but she had learned that forewarning of things to come would only make things worse. With a sigh she began again.

**So Cold**

By: XZero

Disclaimer: I own nothing

**Chapter 4 - Messages**

_Phoenix Mountain - Royal Gardens_

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she gazed out over the horizon. The sunset from this point atop the mountain was the most beautiful; the lake within the crater at the center of the summit was glistening wondrously in the fading light of day. It would grow cold soon, and her vision was poor at best when night came. Her ability to augment her physical abilities was not restrained to just her muscles, but when marveling in the beauty of nature there was no need to enhance her vision to observe the magnificence of the land and sky. Her thoughts of late settled more and more on the youngish Saotome whom she had spent the majority of her time with since his awakening. She could feel the effects of his charismatic personality even when she was reminding herself how she had become two decades his elder since their last meeting. He was probably still in love with the girl he'd originally come to the lands of phoenix for.

"Y'know, this is what kept me goin' a lot of times." A male voice came from behind her; she'd not sensed him she was so deep in thought. A light blush tinged her features. Her normal alertness should've given her forewarning of his approach. As it was she had been taken entirely off guard and was more than a little startled by his presence. She fought momentarily to regain her composure again before speaking.

"What do you mean Ranma?" She had taken to calling him by name since his emergence from the ice. The level of intimacy in her tone had only seemed to increase. She suddenly was hit with a rush of shame. What was going on? Why was she becoming so close to him? She could only drop into her own thoughts again as she recalled his presence. He hadn't begun speaking again or had finished. She turned her face in his direction, and as usual could see only the corona of power that surrounded him. His aura licked around him, and was strangely radiating warmth. She almost remarked on it, but decided to remain silent as he began speaking, inching closer to the gentle heat that emanated from him.

"I traveled with Pops for ten years, learning the Art. We never really stayed in one place too long, mostly we'd stop every couple years for about two months, just long enough for me to catch up in school.

"At first, I remember missing my mom, wondering how she was. But, over time I forgot things, like what she looked like, her voice. It was when I couldn't remember her was when I missed her the most, missed having a home. I looked at the stars a lot, watched sunsets and sunrises before and after warming up or cooling down from training for the day. Sometime, I was about seven, I think, Pops saw me looking at them, and he taught me what the constellations were, what they represented, and the stories. I remember, cause it was one of the few times me and pops did something together that didn't involve fighting." He got quiet midway through, and she could sense the sorrow that welled up in him even without being able to see the depression take hold in his aura. Without thought she spun and wrapped him in an embrace, feeling his power roll over her. So intense, but it did not expel or harm her, instead she felt the power melt around her, accommodating her strong but feminine frame.

She didn't know why she felt compelled to hold him, but she reveled in the contact, and for that matter, so did the scion of Saotome house. She wondered at his features, wondered at the look on his face, she knew his surprise by the stiffness in frame she felt at first, but as he relaxed into her hug she wished she could see him truly.

"I'm sorry, so very sorry." She spoke softly into his shoulder as she held him. Slowly she felt his arms rise to circle her torso, and with mild surprise she felt him pull her closer. Pressed against him she could feel the cold of his body, which contrasted with the warmth of his aura. She understood now what Saffron had meant, his body was insulated from hypothermia by the aura, but instead of keeping him warm it kept him cold but not freezing. His hard muscles were surrounded by velvety flesh that only served to heighten her blush. She realized with faint surprise that he was wearing only a pair of pants, gathered messily at the waist.

"It's fine really." He said comfortingly. Her face burned in both frustration and anger. Her thoughts were tumultuous and wild as she stayed comfortably in their shared embrace.

_Why? Why doesn't he blame me, Lord Saffron, the Phoenix? What makes you so special, and what makes me want to hold you?_ She wished desperately that she knew what it was that he did to her, what made her want to be at his side so strongly. Why all he needed to do was look at her to arouse such feeling.

"Really Saotome, only you would be frozen for twenty years and emerge still stronger than us all." That voice, Kiima and Ranma both spun from their embrace, putting distance between themselves swiftly as they turned to face the owner of the voice. It was familiar, but neither had the presence of mind to place it as they took their stances immediately. Kiima's body tensed and she scanned the new arrival.

Ranma's eyes widened as the trance the gentle embrace Kiima had wrapped him in was broken. That voice, his body went into motion without thought. He took an offensive stance and paused only to appraise the newcomer.

"Wha... Herb?" Ranma exclaimed, taking in the dragon prince. "What're you...?" Trailing off as he realized that he'd not yet relaxed his stance. Kiima, however, didn't share his reaction. The relations between the Phoenix and the Musk were tenuous at best, and for him to appear in the Royal Gardens meant that he had either led an assault, or come as an ambassador. The former was far more likely in her mind than the latter.

"I was wondering whether or not it was true, but I see you here before my eyes, living, breathing, if a little more, luminous, than I remembered." He smiled warmly, striding quickly toward the aurulent fighter. He watched as the presumably pigtailed man relaxed his stance. A pulse in his aura was the equivalent to a smile.

"Good to see you Herb, it's been a long time." Leave it to Saotome to make an understatement beyond measure. The recently defrosted artist clasped forearms with the not so young prince, happy to see another friend from the past. Herb for his part seemed to take it in stride that for all intents and purposes he was looking at a ghost, albeit a ghost sheathed in golden light.

"Indeed Saotome, indeed." Herb was unsure of the proper course of action, it seemed to him as if he had interrupted a tender moment between his friend and rival and Saffron's caretaker. Hastily coming to a decision he falsified a yawn.

"I'm a bit tired from my journey here, so I think I'll get some sleep. Interested in a bit of sparring tomorrow, I didn't find out about what happened until I went to Japan for a rematch." He knew he'd made a blunder then, but he could only be amazed that the silver haired woman stepped closer to Ranma, laying a petite hand on his shoulder from behind. The touch of depression visible in his aura vanished as she lent him her support, and Herb could only be glad for it. He'd seen the looks exchanged between Hibiki and the Tendo girl, Akane. He hoped that his friend's heart was prepared for the day he again saw them.

* * *

_Jusenkyo Valley - Amazon/Phoenix Border_

Mu Tzu leapt nimbly and silently from tree to tree, careful to avoid Amazon patrols in the area, the canopy of twisted greenery gave him sufficient cover from the Phoenix aerial patrols, he hoped. A sound in the distance caught his attention.

"What the?" He trailed off and changed his course. That had been a woman's scream. He forgot his mission, stealth abandoned as he increased his pace toward the point of origin for the distressed cry. His hands, heavily calloused from the various weapons he wielded receded into the volumous sleeves of his gold trimmed white robes, finding the throwing knives concealed within. They marked the specialty of the Hidden Weapons Style, accuracy.

Ironic, given that he was blind.

The deterioration of his sight was gradual, but he'd long seen it coming. Now though, his skill in the art was such that he no longer needed the luxury of his eyes. Sight was something he'd long ago learned to fight without, and now, that lack of dependence was strength. He could see clearer now than ever before. With each day his ability to distinguish chi patterns in the air grew sharper. He could distinguish most anything, and never worry about an error. Seeing inanimate objects was harder, but his other senses had long since carried the slack of his faulty vision.

Ordinarily, a male child born with such a weakness did not survive childhood, he, however, had persevered, never allowing his handicap to restrain him. He'd taken to learning the art of hidden weapons, one of the few allowed to the males among the Joketsuzoku. Upon learning the benefit of the style he eagerly pursued mastery, creating a number of original techniques, such as the distraction tactic of the blow of the swan-fist.

"Pervert! Get away!" The woman continued to scream. He redoubled speed and was there, bursting into the clearing just in time to feel an aura soaring away, presumably from a heavy-handed blow on the woman's part.

"Miss, is everything okay?" That was when he noticed it, her body's shape, it was not completely human. Her energy flowed exactly like that of a human's, but she had wings. He sighed, hoping she would not take his appearance in the wrong way.

"Landling!" The woman explained, jumping back on guard all too readily. This was going to present a problem he just knew.

"I seek audience with Lord Saffron. I am Mu Tzu, of the Joketsuzoku. I once accompanied Saotome Ranma, and have a message for his majesty concerning a decision made by the council of elders." He knew by the disbelief in her in her energy and the loud silence that this wasn't going to be a good day.

* * *

_Near Okayama - Japan_

Nearly three weeks from their set out they had finally arrived, traveling on foot was arduous, though not as much so as swimming the distance between Korea and Japan, or from Shanghai to Korea for that matter. They were outside Nagoya and were nearly at their goal. It would take another two days at most for their journey to be complete. Mint could only hope that the return wouldn't be as arduous.

Steadily Lime had been grating on his nerves, he'd been friends with the man for as long as he could remember, and likely longer, but for the life of him he didn't understand how he used to deal with the simplistic tiger descendent consistently as he had for years. Perhaps marriage had changed him, or maybe it was time, but nonetheless the lupine man was losing patience with his muscle-bound compatriot.

"Mint?" The taller man asked with a bit of nervousness in his tone.

"What Lime? I'm trying to read the map." To say the wolf descendant was irritated by his companion was a gross understatement.

"Uh, I'm hungry." Mint could only sigh, exasperated by the behavior of his long-time friend.

_This is turning out to be more trouble than I thought it would be. I'll have to tell Herb how much I appreciate him when we return.

* * *

_

_Tendo Dojo_

Ryouga stood in shock, watching his daughter as she dedicated more and more time to her martial studies, for her age she was incredibly powerful, possessing as much skill as could be condensed into only a few years time, though now she seemed beyond that. She spent all her free time of late in the dojo, running endlessly through kata that he didn't recognize. No, to say he didn't recognize them would be a lie, but there was no way a girl her age could know them. He'd seen this style before, and it had been practiced by only one martial artist, created by one of the former Nerima Wrecking Crew.

His shock at seeing the style practiced by another beside its master was beyond measure, and as such, he forgot to mask his presence. Already she had undoubtedly felt him, though her senses were not yet fine-tuned enough to feel who he was, consciously. She slowed in her practice, subtly shifting away from the distinct style that a man dead before her time with no students had created. Almost imperceptible were the slight changes of motion that took her back into the Tendo Ryuu, almost.

Should he say something about it? Should he question her about her knowledge of a style that no human could possibly know? He'd only seen him practice the kata once, but he recognized some of the striking zones that she had been focused on, they were meant to overwhelm an enemy with a storm of strikes that flowed from vital to vital in a chaotic deluge of fists and feet, elbows and knees.

"Excellent form Rei-Chan." His voice broke the silence, and her concentration. With a heavy sigh she slowed her kata, bringing it to an impromptu close. She spent several moments with her eyes kept closed, presumably cooling down, refocusing her energies. Another trait that she couldn't have learned, it was a Ranma specialty. Akane kept her eyes open when she practiced her forms, as did he, and even during the brief stint he'd taken her to train with other masters; he'd never seen her close her eyes as his rival once did.

Something had changed in her since her dream. She, a popular child had not once left her home in the weeks since her dream. She'd go to school and returned immediately thereafter. Often her friends would visit only to be turned away almost immediately. He wondered what had driven her to this training spree, perhaps she was reacting to that dream. He was sure it was just that, but he supposed that she could only benefit from this, though isolation would do her no good in the long term. He'd have to talk about that with her.

"You saw." The preteen stated more than asked, apprehensions clear in her tone.

"Saw what?" The fanged man replied, turning on his heel and leaving the dojo and his sag-shouldered daughter behind.

To Be Continued...

A/N: Sorry about the delay, a lot of things have interrupted me, work mostly. I hope that this installment is satisfactory, and I appreciate whatever comments or criticisms you may offer. Until next time.


	6. Calm Night's End

Should he say something about it? Should he question her about her knowledge of a style that no human could possibly know? He'd only seen him practice the kata once, but he recognized some of the striking zones that she had been focused on, they were meant to overwhelm an enemy with a storm of strikes that flowed from vital to vital in a chaotic deluge of fists and feet, elbows and knees.

"Excellent form Rei-Chan." His voice broke the silence, and her concentration. With a heavy sigh she slowed her kata, bringing it to an impromptu close. She spent several moments with her eyes kept closed, presumably cooling down, refocusing her energies. Another trait that she couldn't have learned, it was a Ranma specialty. Akane kept her eyes open when she practiced her forms, as did he, and even during the brief stint he'd taken her to train with other masters; he'd never seen her close her eyes as his rival once did.

Something had changed in her since her dream. She, a popular child had not once left her home in the weeks since her dream. She'd go to school and returned immediately thereafter. Often her friends would visit only to be turned away almost immediately. He wondered what had driven her to this training spree, perhaps she was reacting to that dream. He was sure it was just that, but he supposed that she could only benefit from this, though isolation would do her no good in the long term. He'd have to talk about that with her.

"You saw." The preteen stated more than asked, apprehensions clear in her tone.

"Saw what?" The fanged man replied, turning on his heel and leaving the dojo and his sag-shouldered daughter behind.

**So Cold**

By: XZero

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Chapter 5 - Calm Night's End**

_Northern Training Hall - Phoenix Mountain - Herb_

Herb was impressed, it had been a week since his arrival at the mountain home of the Phoenix, and since then he had yet to face Saotome. Instead the younger, albeit their technical age was the same, man trained incessantly, seeming to crave control of his seemingly bottomless ki reserves. The wear of years was far more present in one than the other, who seemed no older than he had all those years ago. The dragon prince was not so lucky; years spent governing the sparse remainder of the Musk had worn him, though Herb was gladdened that he would live to see the Musk become a people secure in their survival once more. They numbered in the hundreds once more, and with the new generation birth rates were sure to once again rise.

Saotome had actually declined his challenge when he'd presented it two days prior, something that had shocked the Musk leader into a near catatonic state. He had understood, however, when the man he'd viewed as a friend and rival told him of the problem he'd had with control. Herb's reserves were naturally deep, deeper now than before, and were in fact of a like size with the power he sensed within the other man. He, however, was naturally capable of controlling his power. It was his birthright the same as the vast stores of power he claimed as his own.

Saotome did not have that luxury, and was forced to learn to control the vast power he held. Not to say that Herb was at any stretch of the imagination deficient when concerning the control of his energies. In fact, his natural control extended only to keeping in check the otherwise enormous aura that would leak from him as it was from the pigtailed man.

His thoughts were interrupted as he turned to see Ranma, actually see him. He was not wrapped within the corona, for the first time since he'd been here, and as he'd heard it, the first time since his awakening from his twenty year prison of ice, Saotome was without a visible aura, though if anything, the fierce concentration he displayed meant that he would not be able to hold the power back for long.

* * *

_  
Ranma_

Ranma smiled at Kiima victoriously, though his flesh was quickly turning blue, even frosting slightly as he struggled to maintain the binding on his power, he hadn't pulled the power in, merely stopped it from going out so rapidly as to be visible. He saw a look of worry cross the silver haired Phoenix woman's features as he felt it, the horrible cold of the air. His eyes crossed slightly as the icy breeze clawed as his flesh. He could tell from the generous blush of her features, and the heaving of her impressive bosom, that it was more than a little warm in the training hall. Kiima seemed to flow toward him with a speed unseen previously. In an instant he could feel the warmth of her body wrap him within her tender embrace. For the first time in so long he relaxed, the warmth of another person reaching his body. But then, as swiftly as the warmth had come, it vanished. He opened his eyes, aching to feel once more the warmth. Instead he felt nothing but the mild chill. He knew without looking that he was once again wrapped in the insulating blanket of energy. The damned thing that had kept him from freezing within the ice, but now trapped him in a state of cold.

Kiima was stilled pressed against him, holding to him tightly. He was surprised even now that her presence was as comforting as it was. He truly could not explain the attraction he felt to her, as if she had been near him forever, yet he knew nearly nothing about her, other than the figurative warmth she seemed to radiate, the light that kept his spirits from sinking. They would have to talk before much longer, decide where they stood. He remembered Herb telling him that he'd gone to Japan to challenge him, he would have to ask him what he remembered of his trip, how things there had been. How Akane...

Once again he felt her grip on him tighten, just as her hand had found his shoulder or his own hand every time he'd began to fall into a funk. It seemed that she knew, whether from his aura, or just from his stance. He hoped Akane was well, hoped she had moved on. He loved her then, he realized, but she was now twenty years his senior. She had undoubtedly moved on; though the thought was painful for him, he could not condemn her happiness in favor of him: a dead man, a ghost.

* * *

_  
Kiima_

Kiima squeezed Ranma softly, feeling his sadness as if it were her own. She had grown far too attached to him of late, and it seemed as if it would only progress further. She didn't understand what it was that she felt for him, but knew that it was genuine. Nothing had made her feel for him as she did. Perhaps she merely wished to help him through this difficult time. To in some way atone for her actions in the past. Yes, she decided, that was definitely it. It could be nothing else.

* * *

_Sky Gate - Phoenix Mountain_

This was astounding; he could not help but think to himself as he felt the smooth wrought stone of the gate. It was truly amazing. A terrace hundreds of feet in the sky was the main entrance to the Phoenix royal quarter. He had heard that the only true entrance to the mountain was accessible by those with the ability to fly, and it had only been his luck that had gotten him this far. He'd fled from the Phoenix woman, and then, utilizing his curse, flown behind her. His message was of far too much importance to Ranma. He would know how to find him by searching the mountain, his power was near, but it's size made it impossible to tell for certain where he was. Summing up his courage he knocked on the heavy gates.

"I am Mu Tzu, messenger for Elder Ku Lon, Matriarch of the Council of Elders of the Joketsuzoku. I bear a missive for the Lord Saffron, Keeper of the Keys, and God King of the Sacred Mountain of the Phoenix." He announced as the soldiers swarmed out from the gate that had swung open smoothly. Their spears were pointed at him, he could tell that much as he raised his arms slowly.

"Why should we believe you, a filthy landling?" One of the winged men bellowed. He thrust his spear forward as if to threaten. The blind master of the hidden weapons caught the spear as it came too near to his throat. The soldier gulped as his thrust was stopped dead by the blindfolded man.

"Because this pertains to the events of twenty years ago, I was among the party that fought here. Along with Saotome." The winged men all recoiled as if struck. If his words were true, than he was far beyond their power, after all, Saotome was a man of immeasurable power, his own strength rivaled that of the Lord Saffron. They would have to be wary of the man.

The apparent leader seemed to make a decision as he spun on his men, lowering his own spear.

"You, sergeant. You will report the landling's presence to Lady Kiima; ask her kindly to verify the Joketsuzoku male's claims." He had addressed the particularly hostile phoenix tribesman, though there was hesitation in the man.

"Now!" Screamed his superior, and the decision was made. The man dropped his spear entirely, though it stayed aloft, supported entirely from its position, trapped between first and middle fingers. The collective warriors were surprised, knowing that even with their training, the spear, especially the ornate, even if moderately functional, was the heaviest weapon they were trained to wield.

The warrior dashed off, going with all haste toward the training areas where the Lady Kiima was now known to spend almost all her time in the company of Saotome.

* * *

_Tendo Dojo - Nerima Ward - Mint and Lime_

This, this was their destination. It was with tired smiles that the two men rung the bell at the gate, hoping to capture the attention of the occupants. It was midday, and the children were wandering the streets of the district, passing them by with more than a little awe. It seemed that the district had changed greatly from the time that they had last been here. Before their appearance, odd as it might seem to some, had not garnered a second look. Now, they felt as if they were spectacles for the Japanese youth.

"Mint?" The burly man queried hesitantly. He was cautious recently of his smaller friend, Mint seemed to be growing more agitated with him, though why he could not understand, was he not the same as always? Mint was the smarter of the two of them, and would inarguably always be so. Lime knew his strengths, and they were, well, strength. He was a pillar, and he knew that nothing would shake that. Perhaps it was something else bothering Mint. Yes, it must be something else.

"I know Lime, believe me, I know." The tiger-boy sighed, though for once as of late, not because of his slow witted friend. Now it was the gawking children, though the stares they received were not strictly from youngsters. The staggeringly rude children could be forgiven, curiosity often overcame the young. He could remember his own curiosity about women, even into his teen years he remembered his lack of social grace when it came to the fairer sex.

"Let's just ring the damn bell and get this over with." The lupine cutlerist growled slightly as a child came too near, and with a show of his canines, banished the foolish youth from him. In short order most of the younglings ran, taking cover behind streetlamps, even garbage cans as their interest in the newcomers outweighed their fear of the fanged man.

* * *

_Rei_

The clanging of a bell interrupted her practice. At first it might have been her imagination; after all, there weren't any bells around her home. There, again, the noise disrupted her kata, as soon as she had settled again to restart. This time, it was something she couldn't ignore. Stretching herself, she started herself on cooling down from the exercise, knowing that stopping suddenly would invite injury, and that was not something she could afford. Her dream, perhaps it was a vision, occurred when the Sakura were in bloom, and the tree outside had already started to form buds, it would only be a few weeks more, could only be a few weeks more.

She was strong, but not enough so, she wanted to be stronger, to have an active part in this conflict. She didn't know why, but she wanted to prove herself to the man she knew so well, yet had never met. Shaking off the thoughts she opened the heavy wooden gate to the backyard. This was the challenger's entrance, as long as she could remember, that gate had only seen three through it, none of them had stayed long.

Her surprise was apparent as she surveyed the two men standing before her. Her confusion evaporated as one spoke.

"We are looking for Tendo Akane and Hibiki Ryouga." The shorter man was to the point, and apparently well read on her parents. Her father hadn't used his family name in years, having left behind all that he was to be with her mother. Tendo Ryouga was the name her father was now known by, apparently a symbol of giving himself to her. She supposed it was romantic, but from her perspective, it was entirely too sappy.

"They are in the house. I am Tendo Rei, and you are?" She asked politely. Just because they were going to leave in more pieces than they arrived didn't mean they deserved any less courtesy than any other guest.

"I am Mint, he is Lime, and we are friends of Herb." She could only raise an eyebrow as he said their names; it must be a joke, until she heard the final word spoken. Herb, her father had told her bedtime stories about that one, about the battle that shook the foundations of their lives, about how he'd fought with Ranma, about how they'd toppled a mountain with their power while still in their youth.

"I'll show you in, this must be important for you to have journeyed all the way from China." She stated, gesturing for them to follow her into the yard. Her movements were precise, however, in that she would keep her guard up, her father had told her how he and Herb had become friends just the day before when he mentioned him, it had been in direct relation to a statement he'd made about the man called Saotome.

The two followed her without further words, tracking toward the house with quiet resolve. She could only wonder what had brought them here, from her understanding; it wasn't a light undertaking for them to have traveled here.

* * *

_Akane_

It was a scene from the horror stories of old, or would have been if one assumed a lack of change in Nerima. It had been a static place for almost all, but since the premier martial artist of the previous generation failed to return, the weirdness that permeated their lives faded with time. Nerima was once more a quiet district in the Greater Tokyo Area. The kitchen was a hurricane of movement as the exuberance that she had shown for all aspects of her life became apparent in the culinary techniques of Tendo Akane. Her dishes were nearly completed when the closure of the rear door informed her of her daughter's return to the house. Ryouga was upstairs, fixing a hole of something; she hadn't really been listening when he spoke early, too intent on the careful preparation of the meal.

"Rei-Chan, would you please set the table?" She called out over her shoulder; she was closed to the world within the walls of this kitchen. Her concern over other things when preparing dishes in her teen years had been the primary cause of her poor cooking. She simply thought of other things, and was inattentive to the task at hand. She realized what Ranma had meant when he called it toxic sludge. She had also never bothered to taste her own creations.

"Mother, we have visitors." Her daughter stated from the doorway. She turned to give the girl a questioning glance and opened her senses. Two men, with animalistic auras sat in her living room. She knew her husband would meet with her before they could make it into the room; he was already on his way downstairs.

These men were powerful, more so than any mere wandering artists. In fact, she was surprised other martial artists had come here, for over ten years there hadn't been a single challenger. Ryouga was by far more powerful than any man in the modern world. Students filled the dojo almost every day to learn any number of styles in which she, her husband, and even their daughter held mastery in.

"Rei-Chan, please finish dinner for me? I think your father and I will be in conversation with these men for some time. Rei's acceptance was not unexpected, she had always been willing to help out around the house, and if her school records were any indication, she was more than willing to help others. The old Akane remembered the days, remembered beating up bullies, though she frowned at the period during which bullies became perverts, that time was a sore spot in her history, with a ghost that she could never banish. She wished she could settle things between them, but no matter what Rei had dreamed, Ranma was dead and would remain so.

* * *

_Ryouga_

Hammering a new section of wall into place he relaxed a bit, taking note of the two energies that had just entered his home. Finished with his task, he cleaned his tools from the room and headed downstairs, intent to join his wife in the living room. He felt his daughter's aura, controlled and focused, but amateur overall, these others, they were masters capable and in use of techniques to cloak their power, keeping it suppressed. He could feel the make of it, definitely male, and they felt strangely wild, but nothing about them was hostile. These men were powerful indeed, but what did they want here?

When he met with his wife in the hall outside the living room they nodded once to the other in understand before passing into the room, ready for anything. The stunned expressions as they took in two men that had not found their way to Japan for years. But for them to suddenly be in their living room... No, it didn't matter, and it was Ryouga who first recovered from his shock.

"Mint, Lime. Good to see you!" For the formerly directionally challenged man it was a blessing to see them. He suffered without suitable opponents, and wished truly for something to break the monotony, perhaps even the events described by his daughter's dream, though he'd never tell Akane that. She seemed to be happy with the lack of insanity that had ruled in this new Nerima for years now. It was a fleeting thought. That of an adventurer retired, seeking a respite from quiet life.

Akane was drawn back into reality by her husband's declaration, shaking her head slightly as she went with him to the table to greet the two beast warriors.

"Please, you must join us for dinner." Akane insisted of the Musk men. Ryouga saw their uncertainty, but surprisingly, none of the old wonder that seeing a woman brought about in them. He was glad for it; they were friends from time before tragedy, before they had to grow up. He hadn't wanted to have to beat them senseless for asking to grope his wife.

"We will, but afterward we have a message from Herb, he said that it was of the utmost importance." Mint and Lime both knew well what the message said, after all, they too had felt the awesome strength of Saotome as he seemingly, much like the phoenix returned to life. It was a matter of principal that Herb had written the letter, and it would not be right for them to discuss the contents of such before his message was delivered. Beside that, both of the men had a strong sense of smell, courtesy of grandmothers long dead, and were eager to eat a good meal.

* * *

_Phoenix Mountain - Royal Quarters_

Saffron had few advisors, but the very few that were within the inner ring of his trust knew well what his current form was, as they had known for some time. Disinformation to the people at large was never his intention, but it could not be helped. The council who presided over most matters within the mountain had insisted that Saffron not be truly seen by any, save his closest advisors. Spewing excuses, with their fellows to back them. Court often produced useless decisions, but they were necessary in the name of diplomacy. He was an egg still, and would be for at most a week more, after Saotome's display earlier within the northern training hall, he could estimate that he would want to move on, find old friends, or just start a new life. Whatever the case, while he would always be welcome here, he could not imagine him staying here. Well, not yet. A rapping at the door diverted his attention, his senses from within the egg expanding, finding, to his satisfaction, an old friend waiting for response.

_'Come in Kozu.'_

It was an ancient being who entered the chambers moments thereafter, his skin wizened to the point of seeming leather. Deep wrinkles ran along the lines of his face; though through them shockingly alert blue eyes scanned the room before resting on his long time friend. He was one of few who truly loved his sovereign, not just as his king, but as a man.

"It has been some time Saffron; unfortunately this is not a social visit. I have, in my capacity as Royal Librarian, been doing some reading. Of late I have begun taking note of prophecies made in the distant past, prophecies either entrusted to our people by allies, or by seers from our own people." Kozu had always been a man whom wasted no time dispensing pleasantries, Saffron remembered their conversations about the frankness in which he spoke, having time after time chided him with joking admonitions for his rudeness to the monarch of a people.

_'What have you come to inform me of Kozu? What could cause you to ramble on? Do not worry old friend, whatever the problem, prophecy is merely a possible course of history, nothing in the future is definite.' _

"I am afraid it concerns Saotome. Several prophecies make mention of a mortal flame who has done battle with the 'burning wings.' I believe that the events foretold should be taken into consideration, the results are not positive otherwise." The old man was serious, and in fact carried two scrolls, both of which were worn and yellowed with age.

"These are third copies of the original texts, all written some time long ago, and later entrusted to our people by unspecified outsiders. What is most unusual is their particular kanji; it is older than any I have ever seen." Kozu seemed to be preoccupied with the details of the scrolls than with their message, after a few moments more of the man rambling Saffron felt it time to end the string as he began repeating himself.

_'Old friend, I must ask you to come to a point. You are not making much sense.'_ There, curt, but not enough so to actually offend the man.

"These are the words as they appear on the scroll:

**The mortal flame shall do battle with the burning wings, and so shall be preserved as a frozen flame. When he has emerged from his crystal prison he shall turn onto the land of Wa. The frozen flame must possess the key to his element if he shall stand against the darkness.**

What these words mean in their entirety is uncertain to me. Another prophecy found in the third century according to the western calendar, however, leads me to believe this refers to something known as the abyssal shadow." Kozu was in his element here, and it showed. While it had given him something to concentrate on, and to prepare for, he knew by his old friend's tone that it would be some time before he was given the opportunity to rest.

* * *

_Somewhere_

The buzz of power filled the cave as arcane eldritch light cast long shadows against the stone walls. Stalactites hung low and were daggers against the total darkness of the cave ceiling. Not even the otherworldly acid green light could pierce the darkness above. A single figure stood amidst a glowing array. The glyphs flowed in a script unknown to mankind. It was a sight from tales better left to children's stories.

The creature's grinning mouth was full of broken teeth all in various stages of rot, the almost lazy drawl of the vaguely masculine being's voice matched perfectly the pulsating of the oily shadows that were cast in the light the glowing seal produced. Slowly, and methodically gnarled hands toiled at their work. It would take time yet to finish the array, but once it was complete, he would again have the strength to pursue his desires. He would find once more the pleasures of flesh. He would live once more.

To Be Continued...

A/N: Sorry this took so long, between work and a lack of coherency and creative juices. (I ran out of mountain dew) I hope you all enjoy this, and hope to have another update sometime in the next couple weeks. Thank you to all those who reviewed, it actually is directly proportionate to the inspiration for the story. I hope the plot continuity is satisfactory, let me know where you think things could use improvement.


	7. Journey

The buzz of power filled the cave as arcane eldritch light cast long shadows against the cavern walls. Stalactites hung low and were daggers against the total darkness of the cave ceiling. Not even the otherworldly acid green light could pierce the darkness above. A single figure stood amidst a glowing array. The glyphs flowed in a script unknown to humanity. It was a sight from tales better left to children's stories.

The creature's grinning mouth was full of broken teeth all in various stages of rot. The almost lazy drawl of the vaguely masculine being's voice matched perfectly the pulsating of the oily shadows cast by the light of the glowing seal produced. Slowly, and methodically gnarled hands toiled at their work. It would take time yet to finish the array, but once it was complete, he would again have the strength to pursue his desires. He would find once more the pleasures of flesh. He would live once more.

**So Cold**

By: XZero

Disclaimer: I own nothing

**Chapter 6 - Journey**

Power welled against his flesh, and the mirror displayed his form. Finally, after so long, trying so desperately to re-attain the clarity and control, he had succeeded. His skin was different, no longer was he mildly tanned, instead his flesh was so light it was horrifying, his skin held a mild blue tint, as if he had become a frozen corpse and refused death. His hair, once a raven silk, was gone, replaced with a blue-black hue. Grey, not the natural and age-worn shade, now laced his wild mane. His hair had taken the appearance of black ice. He could feel the threat of his power looming inside him, it was as if he had broken the restraints that had been put in place years ago, and now, with an ocean of power lying in wait he was trying to construct a dam in place of those by comparison, paltry slews. He thought of the ancestral key tools that he had sheathed on his back in a pair of special baldrics. He recalled clearly the evening he had learned to control it this much.

* * *

_Flashback_

___These control the faucets at Jusendo, the spillways for the water. Kinjakan for hot, Gekkaja for cold. Perhaps that is it; perhaps I have been trying too hard. These open the draw and when they release the water, it takes on the aspect of whatever tap it exited. That's it! Instead of trying to retain it all, and because it refuses to lie dormant, I must dam the power. Releasing less and less until it is fully under my command. _

"Ranma, what is wrong?" The melodious voice shook him from his internal reverie; he had forgotten that Kiima was nearby. Now, taken from his thoughts he felt her hand on his shoulder. It was a comfort, isolated as he was from others. Her warmth seemed to penetrate the numbing cold that had kept him from death. Since she had held him that night, nothing of his power had repelled her as it had others; in fact, proximity to her was almost magnetic. It was as if being near her were drawing him toward her. He had thought for so long that he had known how ki worked, how it moved and manifested, but obviously, that had been youthful arrogance.

"Nothing, I think I just found a way to hold it back more permanently." He saw the understanding dawn almost immediately in her eyes. Their conversations were more than frequent now. It had become a rarity for the two to part for very long, and while they seemed only to be trading banter, it had developed to a kind of confidence neither had experienced before.

At first, he thought that she was just being nice, guilt of the past and whatnot. Now, their conversations were beyond that, they had become friends. After so long, even if he was inanimate for twenty years, he had a friend who held no ulterior motive, wanted nothing from him beside his friendship. His beaming smile at the thought of calling her friend, and the gentle squeeze she gave his shoulder brought a tear to his eye, and nothing in his mind told him to restrain it. She was his friend, and around her, he could be as strong or as frail as he wished. Besides, this tear was one of joy, and he would have it no other way.

8888888888888888888

The next evening he achieved the state of gentle balance he had sought. The power stormed and raged against him, threatening to overcome him in a sea of his own strength. He needed a focus, something, anything to hold him steady. Images flashed through his mind and finally they settled on one that would not lower his morale.

_Kiima stood before him at sunset, the crater lake beside them, and the cool breeze made her cold, with forgotten uncertainty he pulled her against him, willing his aura to part around her she was enveloped. Her body met his and once again, he felt her warmth. He knew his aura would insulate her from the cold, protect her. He willed it so._

There, the floodgates had been made, and his power leaked out of his form slowly, imperceptible but for the unearthly glow of his eyes. The other occupants of the training area in which he stood bore witness to a truly amazing sight, before their eyes his power seemed to explode outward one final time before ebbing, pulled in as if by vacuum into his form. His eyes drifted closed. He could not see that the clothing he wore was ragged from the storm of life force he had caused. Clarity shone in his eyes, before they glazed over. What was that firmament beneath him, he had not been lying down when he began.

Kiima held him, head in her lap, shouting something. He could not hear her; the world danced and swam, sparks of darkness floated through his vision, spreading until he had succumbed to unconsciousness.

___End Flashback

* * *

_

Since then he had been training, and today, that was when he and Herb would have their match, his power against the Dragon Prince's own. He stood now, overlooking the other mountains Bayankala range, toward the area they would have their duel. That mountain will be a proving ground; I will finally be able to gauge my strength.

* * *

___Kiima   
_

She stood before the entrance to Saffron's chambers, where the royal guard stood firm. She motioned them apart and in response the moved from her path, offering crisp salutes as she in turn nodded at them, sliding a fist into position against her breast, over her heart. It was their custom: a fist over the heart, symbolic of strength of conviction, as was taught to all within the mountain. She pushed open the doors and felt the tug against them as she was through, the door attendants pulling them closed behind her. Before her was the silken bundle containing Saffron's Egg.

She stopped only a few feet from the egg and dropped fluidly to a single knee. Her balled fist over her heart with her other hand on the hilt of her sword.

"Lord Saffron." She addressed carefully. She knew that the request she would make was unorthodox, and unheard of in all the histories of her people, but she needed to know.

___'Rise Kiima.'_ The formality in his tone was not one he often took with her, after all, she had been his mother his last incarnation, and before that she was a young girl that he remembered fondly as a friend. He obviously knew what her request would be, though what his reaction would be to her query given voice made her uncertain.

"Lord Saffron, I have come before you to request leave. I wish to journey with Ranma when he returns to Japan. I want to help him reach the destination he searches for. This I humbly beg of you, my King." She could not look up from the floor, despite knowing that his senses were not as normal mortal means. Where she looked was unimportant, but in her mind she knew that looking downward, in shame, was how she should be.

___'Kiima, long you have served me, at first you were a young girl, whom I watched grow, and for whom I have many fond memories. In my next incarnation, you were the one who raised me, despite only being barely old enough to do so when you began. Now, I recall you as both mother and younger sister, and I find that I cannot deny you this voyage. Though I feel you deserve this warning, some horror will visit his homeland upon his return, and the results are unseen. Guide him, and give him hope Kiima, let what is between you be not a burden, but an uplifting spirit of joy.'_

Saffron's words had confused her then, mentally drained as she had been almost a week ago, after the arrival of Ranma's myopic friend. It would be at least two days before they left, tomorrow was the day of Herb and Ranma's bout, one she had great anxiety about, she wanted to watch, but did not know if she could bare to see Ranma lose. Herb had two decades of practice using his vast power stores that Ranma did not, and would certainly hold nothing back when their battle reached its climax. It would take a miracle of miracles for him to prevail against such an overwhelming foe.

* * *

___Tendo Dojo - Mint  
_  
This was truly proving to be a stressful situation. While Lime had not made too foolish a move, the tension he felt every time someone spoke during the meal, which, despite the rumor he had heard from Herb, was excellently prepared. No matter how good the food was, it still came to the fact that the message he had for these people could be unsettling. He knew, just as Lime did, the pain of losing families... friends. They would have to tread carefully this business. 

He looked up from the half-empty bowl of rice and gazed at the other occupants of the room. Ryouga, he sat in contemplative silence, something that Lime realized was glaringly incongruent with the teen he had met years ago. A ghost of a smile graced his lips at the thought of the old days, when it was not this dire, nothing they could not solve with a short stint into the big world for a quick fix. A sigh now, left him as his eyes dropped once again to the meal in his hands.

He chanced a look at Lime, and was distraught by his burly companion's inattention to his own meal, instead sneaking furtive glances at the impressive swell in the blouse of the home's caretaker. With little room to innocuously his friend innocuously, he settled for taking stock of the girl. Hibiki's daughter was nothing of her father, or at least, very little. It seemed that like her mother and aunts, the women in the family all gained their mother's appearance. He noted the aural similarities between father and daughter, but only as far as family went. Oddly, though, the energy pattern was unlike either of her parents fighting strength, instead...

He started, and decided to discontinue his train of thought, studiously returning to his meal. From then he found no reason to raise his head from his meal until he had emptied the bowl completely. Not a grain of rice remained. He could no longer avoid it; he lifted his eyes and at once met the questioning glances of all the others who sat at the table.

"My apologies, I was really hungry." They saw the lie, all of them, but realized that whatever had kept him so entranced must be important to him. Even Lime, as dense as the stone of the Citadel of the Dragon, knew that his friend carried a gravity that seemed to crush him beneath its weight.

Mint tilted his head in either direction, a litany of wet pops going off in machine gun fashion.

"I supposed now is the time to get to the message. Before anything else, I am supposed to deliver this to you, Ryouga." He handed the brawny man the scroll case that had until now been slung over one shoulder. The other man's hands popped the cap from the watertight waxed-leather case off easily, and drew out the parchment scroll he held. Herb did have a flair for the dramatic, and so, when writing had taken great care to reproduce the elegant style of his ancestors. Luckily, he had not gone so far as to write the language in ancient form.

He could only watch as the man read the message that had plagued him since he saw its conception. Herb had insisted on writing this himself, trusting no scribe to take dictation as was usual for his station.

* * *

___Ryouga__  
_

___Ryouga, this message should reach you nearly a month after their departure, but I feel it important to relay this information to you. Saotome is alive._

The pause in the message was staggeringly obvious, almost as if he were chewing his pen to look for the words. The kanji was perfect, but the brush strokes were cautious, and that gave it away.

___I know what you must be thinking. How? When? I too seek the answers to these questions. I must ask that you not come to the _ _Jusenkyo__Valley__, as there are other, pressing matters that will arise if my historians are correct.'_

This part confused him even more, first his daughter's dream, then the style she had been practicing, a style that was impossible for her or any other human being to know, and now, finally Herb's confirmation. Dark times were coming, and finally, his age-old battle cry was correct. "Ranma, this is all your fault.

___They have found prophecies made thousands of years passed, three, all in reference to the same person. They refer to this man as the frozen flame, the storm warrior, and the proud tiger. When I learned he'd been trapped within the ice created by the Phoenix Artifact, and then, the enormous surge of power that freed him must have been his aura, it was him, and we are both aware of the manifestation his aura has. Primarily, his battle aura rises as a flame. The other titles are what name him truly. For what other man of unimaginable strength uses an attack that bends storms to his whims. Alternatively, the naming "proud tiger?" I have no intent to tell him of my findings, but I have no doubt that Saffron will try to help him prepare for what he must face. Yes, I speak of the very same Saffron who attempted to slay you all. Some of the prophecies within our archives bear the seal of the _ _Phoenix__, just as we suspect some of theirs may bear the seal of the Dragon, but I digress. It is my guess that after some time, he will return to Japan. I will try to meet with him, both to confirm my suspicions, as well as to help him in any way I can. His power now is without doubt, equal to my own, and equally to the full and focused power Saffron is capable of bringing to bear. I will challenge him to the match I sought years before; hopefully he will prove as intuitive as he was during our last engagement. For now, I will leave your questions to Mint and Lime. _

___Best Regards, _

___Herb of the Musk _

Ryouga could barely understand what he read, the depth of meaning. Finally, he understood, and looked up at Mint, the scroll falling from nerveless fingers. His jaw quivered, and suddenly, he felt a hand dart out, grasping the parchment in his lap. Almost before he realized it, Akane had snatched up the letter, her eyes widening in terror as she read on. His own child seemed to be calm, though he could sense her anticipation. She knew something. How?

* * *

___Akane_

"Alive." The words cycled in her mind repeatedly. A lost love, a flame quenched in the prime of life, for her. He had been her heart, and now, was alive again. Would he come here seeking her, seeking revenge? No, this was Ranma, he would never hurt her, but what was she to do. Could she bear to see him? Could she stand to see him, she had settled her feelings for him, and had moved on. A touch of her temper flared and her mind entered ludicrous threads of thought before she squashed them mercilessly by a logic taught to her by years. That would get her nowhere.

"Alive." Her word was bare whisper, but it cared with dreadful gravity.

That was when it became too much for her, and she found relief in the blissful darkness of unconsciousness.

* * *

___Mu Tzu_

It never ceased to amaze, even dead Saotome had grown beyond his own strength. He was not jealous. In the end, he had won the girl, had a family. His life had become peaceful. While he had never given up his training, martial arts were not the end-all be-all that it was for Ranma. He was surprised when he had first 'seen' the man, and none could mistake the man who by rights should be among the honored dead for a boy. He was certain that Ranma seemed to be maturing rapidly, both physically and mentally. His power seemed to demand a mature form, capable of harnessing his full strength, and so he was changing to fulfill that ultimatum, far faster than normal maturation would allow. He truly was incredible, this man that he had come to see safe.

___'Odd, in our youth I would have attacked him, insulted him, and done everything to make him miserable. But now, it is only the wonders he brings about with his presence that dominate my mind.'_ Mu Tzu marveled at the change in demeanor both he and Saotome displayed toward one another.

___'Perhaps he never bore me the ill will that I did him. He never did me undo harm, even if I attacked him by surprise, or held a captive.' _ That did not hold his attention much longer than a moment, what did was the revelation of the status of the Phoenix King, a sometimes enemy of his people.

Saffron was an egg, strange, but not beyond the myth of his people, the royal families of the Phoenix people were muddled in mystery and misinformation. One such bit that seemed more than coincidence and heritage was the depictions of their crown prince. Three thousand years and every image of the Phoenix King was the same. All of them, and in that an observer could be lead to what he now found to be truth. There was no 'new' prince of the Phoenix, every generation was a new king, but always was his name Saffron, and always, was he the same man.

The egg was proof that Saffron truly was a legendary firebird. His memories of their first meeting were vague, his mind distracted by the strange ki based communication of the Phoenix King. It was unbelievable, it was as if a fully matured man spoke and was contained within the egg. Ku Lon would be much impressed with the information that he had gathered regarding the life of the phoenix, though he doubted it would make much difference given the circumstances.

A mantle clock chimed, and drew him from his reverie. Nearly time, he would have to hurry not to miss the beginning of the bout, his flying speed was much below that of the phoenix, even if they were going to be carrying Herb and Ranma to their bout match, not to keep up he would have to follow closely, and use liberal amounts of energy.

This match would prove to be one of incredible proportion, and an idea of what Ranma was capable of now.

* * *

___  
Herb   
_

Wind blew gently across the isolated valley, kicking up motes of dust. Atop the mount there was but a single lake, barely large enough to qualify as such. From it ran a plethora of streams often these too would disappear, disappearing underground to feed the countryside below. An abundance of rocky terrain contrasted grassy rises that followed the river. The streams and creeks stemming from the spring lake sustained life here. Other than the low plants of the river, nothing grew. Areas of blasted terrain, littered with shattered boulders. This small valley seemed unnatural in its undisturbed tranquility. It would not last.

Herb took only a moment to survey the battleground, grunting his singular approval of the terrain as the phoenix that carried him spoke to inform him of the end of their journey. With a noncommittal response, the leader of the Musk fell silently from the arms of the soldier. He twisted reflexively, spreading himself to slow his descent. It would not do to use energy unnecessarily. His plummet slowed dramatically only three stories from the stony Earth below, a golden aura erupting from him as he righted himself for landing.

His bout with Saotome would require a level head and full reserves. Ranma was by far the most adaptive and clever opponent he had ever faced. A minute amount of power flared around him as he reached the ground, and he could not help but chuckle as his friend, in classic form, did much the same as himself, releasing his blazing power in a pulse of enormous strength.

"Truly amazing." Herb vocalized in scant above a whisper as he watched his friend copy the trick with no more than a second's analysis. He sobered though as the other man drew in his fighting strength. Both fighters turned eyes skyward to ensure that their ferrymen were clear of the fighting zone. The entire mountain was deemed safe earlier, no travelers would visit this lonesome crag, and for that, they were grateful. Nonetheless, Saffron had deployed soldiers around the mountain both to observe the match, and to watch for any innocents. For that, Herb was more than grateful. They had not been so careful at Mt. Horai, and for all they know, someone could have died during their foolish escapades.

He shook his head, clearing the past as he reigned in his own power, this contest would be of both physical strength and spiritual focus, and he could feel himself tremble in anticipation of the combat. The soldiers had maneuvered into an updraft well outside the hot zone. Grinning he turned eyes to his adversary, rolling his neck atop his shoulders, before shaking his arms outward. Simultaneously, they fell into their respective stances.

His opponent matched his maneuver, and at a silent agreement, the battle was joined.

Their contest would begin slowly, opponents only three meters from one another, circling as they studied the form of the other. Finally Herb took initiative, dashing forward with tight probing strikes. None would penetrate Saotome's defenses. Herb fell back as the other man's controlled counter attack began. Ranma replied in kind with Herbs assault and though his attacks were slightly less controlled, the variety and consistency of his attacks kept the other man from utilizing the small holes in his defenses. It was uncanny the way he seemed to change angles and bend ludicrously. His style seemed nonexistent, and was different from what Herb remembered. Finally, they clashed; a double punch from the Musk leader was caught by an odd cross block, bringing Ranma within the range of his opponent. Herb was unconcerned; he fell backward slightly, jumping into a fall-away drop kick. He was rewarded in his unique approach as the pony-tailed fighter took the blow in the chest. The force threw the fighters away from one another as a result. Herb threw a hand down as he flew parallel to the ground below, descending slightly to land. He continued to slide only a moment before coming to a stop.

For a moment, billowing clouds of dust stood between them, giving the two men ample chance to resettle themselves. As the wind kicked up again, pushing the dust away the dragon prince caught a glimpse of his friend's eyes.

"Let's quit the warm-ups." Herb spoke, darting forward only meters behind his words.

Ranma seemed to agree, and matched Herb stride for stride. Great furrows of earth formed from their charge, and ended as the two met in a savage hit-trade. Blows passed back and forth, dodged, parried, blocked, and traded relentlessly in a barrage that would pulverize companies of lesser men. Herb felt the backlash as his fist broke through a wall of air, and the resulting vacuum tore along the path of his fist, displaced air adding to the concussive force of his opponent. Saotome spun past the pressure and slapped his hand aside, breaking his assault to deliver a spinning reverse kick.

The prince could not parry or block, but instead doubled backward, falling out of the way until his torso was in line with the ground. Like a coiled spring, he came up and threw the heavy right into Ranma's midsection, throwing the other man back.

This would be a contest to birth legends, he knew.

Surprise registered on Saotome's face, but it transformed quickly into the joyous smile he himself wore. This was battle strictly for the sake of its enjoyment. Ranma was flung to one side by the force of the blow, his growing own aura shielding him gratefully from the majority of the damage. The silver maned prince wasted no time, even before the other fighter had so much as landed he was closing the gap between them, a crater forming around him as he pushed from the ground in a nearly horizontal leaping, seeming to blaze along the ground.

"Akanesasusora Ryuujin Hanone!" Herb roared and reared back a fist, an ethereal flame erupted from it was terrifying, but his opponent had apparently not been as stunned as he appeared, and his eyes shot open the moment the attack came to fruitition. Herb breached the range that he had come to know as the point of return for this attack, everything was set, and nothing would allow Saotome to defend in time. He **knew** his fist would connect. He had not expected a reversal of tactics, from the almost savage attack strands to a flowing evasion. His speed had not been enough and Saotome had instead of meeting the attack as he had seemed apt to do, twisted to the side narrowly, tapping the silver haired dragon prince almost lightly on the bicep as his foot swept out, sending him careening head over heels. His recovery was not quick enough and a tumbling twenty meters passed before he regained his feet. Analyzing the situation required less than a second's though, and his smile widened as he saw in his mind's eye the counter that the other man had utilized. Tai Chi, he realized, this would be an interesting change of pace.

He regained his feet in the time it took to breath and yet it was too late. Saotome was already within striking distance, leading with a flying kick enshrouded in pale white flame. Herb knew that maneuver's effect, and strafed safely evading the attack. He was not prepared, however, for the sudden twist as his opponent touched ground, collapsing the stone beneath him, spraying pebbles and dirt in all direction. In all, the attack seemed to go unrealized as once again they met in a surge of violence.

At some unseen signal both men disengaged leaping backward until they were a goodly distance from one another before resuming their stances. Kiai, a spirit yell, was an understatement of the invocation of their essence that now occurred. Their swirling power coiled trails of dust around them, adding thick strands of reflected light to the palpable energy the two radiated. The earth around them trembled under the strain of energy it supported. The two men were lost amidst the torrential storms of spiritual force for only an instant, before anti-climatically falling back into the corporeal forms from which they sprang, not leaving the men unchanged in appearance.

The two defied gravity in ways that other, lesser men would believe unimaginable as both martial artists took to the air. A mistake Herb should not have made. Ranma was a master of aerial combat, and while the dragon prince was no stranger to midair battle, his strength was not fighting in the air. He matched well against the other man, but could not continue at this pace. His flight technique slowed him marginally as he willed himself to move as needed to keep pace. His opponent used only bursts of power and the rebound from their collisions to maintain the air.

Another midair bout, though this time, he did not exchange blows with the raven-haired man, but instead thrust forward a palm, his power escaping him in a nameless release of energy. The other was surprised, that much showed on his features as the beach ball sized orb overtook him. Despite that, he accepted the blow well, gathering a hasty defense as the compressed spirit struck him and reversed his approach violently.

"Moko Takabisha." The words were barely above a whisper, but the effect was instantaneous. A stream of energy bridged the shrinking gap between him and the valley floor. His fall slowed and he met the ground, cutting off the stream of power as he slid backward on his feet. He took a moment to wipe the blood from his lips and tear the ruined shirt from his back. Herb was impressed at the resilience the other man showed, and spiked his energy again. It was time to get serious

"Saotome! It is time to take this to the limit. Don't hold anything back." He announced clearly, as he stopped levitating plummeted to the valley floor, his aura sharpening around him as he descended faster and faster

Ranma leapt back only a heartbeat before the silver haired man crashed into the earth, spraying bits of rock in all directions. Ranma found he was ill prepared for the prince to come at him again so quickly. Hastily the pony-tailed man flared his battle strength, grasping desperately every bit of power that would answer his call. Herb was unprepared for the sudden release of Ranma's full strength. His blazing charge halted violently, as the other man became the proverbial unmovable object

Suspended in the air the other man reigned in his power once again, and pushed forward, battling against the other man, similar shrouded within his essence

A roar escaped them, as the two brought to bear their strength, the ground around them buckled, and formed twin craters, hissing fractures in the mountain on which they stood, sending a spider web of fissures for hundreds of feet in all directions

A cliff fell victim to this pressure and collapsed under the strain, debris blown outward by the pressure differential. Pebbles lifted into the air as they became less dense than the surrounding environment, pulverized moments later by the awesome strength of their opposing souls

Even hundreds of feet away the shockwave of their eruptions struck the winged witnesses of their bout, staggering some, while others were overwhelming, forced to ride the flow of power before it had faded enough to push through

"Yes! This is it, the battle I have wanted for so long." Herb cried exultantly as he felt the overwhelming pressure from his rival's aura. Like his opponent, he was lost within the energy. This had become a battle strictly where one would overwhelm the others spiritual strength. The deftness with which they wielded their massive spiritual force would determine this clash. A truly breathtaking sight of painfully bright gold and sapphire auras struggled against one anothe

Herb remarked that this was a great deal like the dojo game of pushing hands, searching to put the other off balance for the final strike.

* * *

___Ranma_

Herb was incredible, his power was awesome and terrifying all at once, but throughout the battle, those thoughts remained banished to the recesses of his mind. Now was not the time to be appreciating his opponent's strength. Now, in this battle of wills the victor would be decided. Control was difficult, and the strain he felt on his body and mind was both, wonderful and crushing. Now, in this time his blood and soul sang. He stood, locked in battle with an opponent of overwhelming power, and to him, there was no greater joy

Their game was ending and he knew it, he did not have the years of experience that Herb did, and did not utilize his power as efficiently. He knew that for truth. If he could not win with strength, his keen tactical mind would have to find something. If he faltered right now, he would die, crushed beneath the weight of his adversary's aura before the other could know to stop. There, it clicked into place, but if it panned out, he would have all that he needed.

* * *

___Herb_

Herb surged his strength out once more, pushing aside his competitor's aura as if it were a silk curtain

"No, something is wrong; he shouldn't be giving up this easily." Just as the thought came, he felt it, his power enveloped. For a moment a bit of him panicked, but then the cool calculation slid over him, he could feel Ranma's aura doing the oddest thing, swirling around his own aura, constricting like a snake

A massive concentration of the power above him, and he knew what he must do. The air within his aura began to heat, the already wavy distortion of the air increasing. He found his collection and directed it all around

Perhaps that was why the cry surprised him

"Hiryu Kourin Dan!" Shocked by the exclamation, Herb froze, and by the time he realized his folly, his own power was turning against him. First came the feeling of his power being pulled away, this much was familiar, but even as he ceased to exert his power he knew that this was the true purpose of the technique. Hastily he tried to release more power, but it was futile. His enemy drew his strength away as fast as he could summon it into an aura. The crushing weight of his enemy bearing down on him came next. This was what he supposed gave his rival the time necessary to complete the maneuver, falling through his own rising energies like a lead weight. He ceased summoning his aura now, instead focusing as much power as possible into his arm. This would decide things

"Oiuchi!" Invoking the technique, he threw his fist upward, a fierce uppercut to match the descending ki powered strike his opponent offered. Eyes widened throughout the skies as their strikes came to completion. The swirling forces surrounding their hands glanced off one another. The feeling of his fist embedding in Ranma's abdomen sent a wave of exultation through him before the realization hit.

_8888888888888888888888_

His eyes crossed, and the wind rushed out of him faster than he could expel it on his own, the world lurched as he crashed into Herb. He smiled despite the darkness that crept over his vision; his fist too had found its mark. As he collapsed to the ground, the dragon prince fell along with him.

The battle had ended.

* * *

___Unknown_

The gnarled staff and equally twisted form that clutched it slunk quietly through the night. The battle atop the nameless peak had been felt, though to this one it was irrelevant. The wrinkled female form continued to the almost-mesa. Two Phoenix patrolled the skies nearby, and unfortunately for them were too close for the dried husk of human flesh's liking. Drawing from her robe a pair of cruelly barbed daggers, she waited only a moment before sending first one than the other into the air, weighted against the wind by a unique application of dark power. The two sky guards fell without a cry, the long daggers jutting from vitals. They had been unfortunate fools in the wrong place. Without pause the woman continued

Quietly she made her way into the passage under the earth, where the cool stone beneath her feet thrummed with power.

A shiver ran through the ancient being as she moved silently into the cavern within the hill, the otherworldly light spilled out of the depths of the earth in a hellish manifestation. Her wicked features became even more malicious as the dried face twisted into a cruel smile. There was no warmth there

Something that would terrify man and god alike was revealed as the ancient woman shed her robe, before she fell into place opposite the other. The male form did not seem to take notice, never breaking his chant, feeding power to the arcane glyph. As she joined him, another, equally complex, pattern flared to life, stark contrast to the male. Balance in all things it seemed. Her wicked cackle rose into the night as they chanted in eerie harmony.

To Be Continued...

A/N: Sorry to disappoint you all, but after rechecking the chapter after a certain review, I found that I had shortchanged you all, and as such went about fixing it. I promise that there is another chapter already half finished, though entirely unpolished, so it will take more time. My computer has been down for quite some time and is only now on the road to recovery. Expect the next chapter within the next couple of weeks.

**Herb's Techniques:**

**Hikaru Hanone no Ryuujin**to shine Fang of Dragon God** (literal) **Shining Fang of the Dragon God** (intended)   
**

**Oiuchi**: Final Blow (literal)


	8. The Paths We Walk

The gnarled staff and equally twisted form that clutched it slunk quietly through the night, the battle atop a nameless peak that had lost almost two hundred feet from its summit had not gone unnoticed, and despite it, the wrinkled female form continued to the almost-mesa. Two Phoenix patrolled the skies nearby, and unfortunately for them were too close for the dried husk of human flesh's liking. Drawing from her robe a pair of daggers she waited only a moment before sending first one than the other into the air, weighted against the wind by a unique application of dark power. The two sky guards fell without a cry, the long daggers jutting from vitals. They had been unfortunate fools in the wrong place. Without pause the woman continued.

Quietly she made her way into the passage under the earth. The cool stone of the passage thrummed with power.

A shiver ran through the ancient being as she moved silently into the cavern within the hill, the otherworldly light spilled out of the depths of the earth in a hellish manifestation. Her wicked features became even more malicious as the dried face twisted into a cruel smile. There was no warmth there.

Something that would terrify man and god alike was revealed as the ancient woman shed her robe, falling into place opposite the other form still to be found chanting and feeding power to the arcane glyph. As she joined him another, equally complex pattern flared to life, stark contrast to the male. Balance in all things it seems. Her wicked cackle rose into the night as they chanted in eerie harmony.

**So Cold**

By: XZero

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Chapter 7 - The Paths We Walk  
**

Tendo Rei knew fear that night, and could do nothing to quell the dread that rose within her. Her fingers clutched the table's edge in a white-knuckle grip, slowly crushing the thick, hardwood, furnishing. Her dreams were coming true, and though she had always known they would, this visit was merely a confirmation of the undeniable truth. Dark times were coming, and there was no way of knowing the outcome.

She had increased the amount of time spent training nearly threefold. Three months ago, three hours in the evening and one before school had been regular for her, now they were a joke.

Closing her eyes she could not help but shiver as the memory of her dream ran through her, inundating her with fear like icy knives along her skin.

"Father, I believe it is time for me to train." She excused herself from the table, and turned toward the door. She would have to get to work, increasing her workload would put an even greater strain on her at school, but nothing she could do would change that. She refused to be a liability or a weakness to her family.

* * *

_Ranma_

He gazed across the room of the small inn room in wonder. Why had Kiima come with him? No -- he knew the answer, and surely as he knew, so did she. There would be no denial of what was between them. He could not identify what he felt precisely, other than a strong sense of contentment. She had brought peace and comfort to this new world, to the new life he had to live. Twenty years had gone, and even though Herb assured him that Akane was well, he had not said more. There was no doubt in his mind that she had moved on. He was happy for her, and wished that she had found happiness.

Frustration welled within him as he once again fell into the past, reminiscing about the sweet face, and private smiles. Akane had never been the perfect fiancé, but she had captured his heart somehow. His memory of her cruelty was fresh, but before that he remembered the warmth of her smile, the strength of her convictions, her right cross. He rubbed his jaw and a smile crossed his features and a dry chuckle passed his lips. She rarely did any lasting damage, and usually that was with her attempts at domestic tasks.

His memory of her was not sour. He had accepted long ago that she was who she was, and only time would give moderation to her volatile temperament. She was not by nature a homemaker, but the vibrancy of her life was something that had captivated him like no other.

Could Kiima be a hasty replacement for the girl that he remembered? No, he knew that that was just pessimism. She was vastly different from the fierce girl he remembered. Kiima was indeed a swordswoman, a fiercely and loyal soldier in the service of her lord, but beneath the steel she was a tender and overwhelmingly feminine woman. Akane had been a flame that drew him; Kiima was warmth that sustained him. Was this love? No, not yet.

He found her with his gaze, a softness passing over his features. The moonlight danced over her form as she slept, and in that instant, she was breathtaking. She was always beautiful, but it was times like these, private moments, when her guard was lowered that she truly shone as a woman, and not the deadly beautiful Valkyrie of her waking hours. Those soft smiles were for him, he knew. His thoughts turned to a week ago, when he had first awakened from the battle with Herb.

* * *

_Flashback_

_"Where am I?" _A groan escaped his lips as he shifted in his bed, snuggling into the warmth of his blankets, studiously ignoring the aches in his arms and legs.

Singing, it was soft and the words were lower still, but the melody was clear and the words unexplainably soothing. He could not understand what she said, for it was in her native mandarin, yet the emotion conveyed within the song was overwhelming. Her voice was beautiful, and the song was haunting.

A tear trickled from the corner of one steel tinted eye, rolling over his cheek toward his ear when the song halted abruptly. Her hand brushed his cheek, wiping away the moisture tenderly. She knew he was awake, or if not, then her song had reached him in his dreams. She had turned to return to her task when he spoke.

"Please, Kiima, keep singing." He almost whispered, throat dry. His eyes were open only slightly, he could see her gentle smile. Another thing she gave only to him.

She began her song again. Softly at first, but as she sang, her volume increased, until her voice echoed in the expansive chamber. The aria soothed him, slowly his eyes opened further, and her vocals drew him from the half slumber fully into the waking world until his gaze rested on her solely.

Sunlight caught in her silver mane and wreathed her in a halo. She sat beside his bed as a human woman, a common thing. The effect of the Spring of Drowned Akane had long ago vanished, leaving her in the form she had gained when first she had gone to Jusenkyo. He smiled, knowing that were she in her true form she would be as an angel. Western beliefs did not have much influence on his upbringing but more than once the catholic churches in the larger cities had depictions of angelic forms, and when he gazed up at her, he could see the image of nirvana before him.

The string of thought halted suddenly. _'What the hell?'_ He didn't know what had caused it, but his cheeks burned with embarrassment when she turned and met his gaze. He could not help but notice the tinge of pink in her cheeks. His world reeled as the implications of her blush bore fruit. He did not know why, but instead of stuttering or shifting uncomfortably as he had always done in situations of the like, he could only offer a small smile.

"When are we leaving?" The silver haired swordswoman asked him as she found her composure.

"We?" That was the start of their travels.

_End Flashback

* * *

_

He could not quite comprehend what brought her with him, and when he had asked, she simply waved him off, diverting the topic in a manner others might have found convincing. He saw through it, but respected her privacy and let it be. Kiima had not lied to him, nor had she withheld anything to do with him. That part of him that was a pessimist insisted that she was hiding things; that perhaps her goal was to use him as others had done. In an instant, he dismissed the thought.

He watched her peaceful sleep awhile longer, listening to the sounds of the night until drifting to sleep once more.

* * *

_Ryouga_

Pole axed was too light a term for his state. The Musk warriors had left the day previous, parting in haste. Rei's dream was coming true, and now, they knew that he would return to Japan. He'd long forgiven the pigtailed man of the imagined wrongs, and had gotten over the sorrow he felt at never being able to earn forgiveness for his transgressions against the friend he'd never appreciated.

Rei had barely left the dojo since last night, returning only to sleep, and then again she had returned to the wooden structure. He heard the labored breathing, and piercing kiai's that indicated training, felt her utilize the iron cloth technique once again, investing greater power and weight into her gi. He should be helping her, and trying to find out what she knew. Ranma's style was unmistakable, chaotic savagery and deadly grace wrapped in silk. Against all logic, she knew it. Perhaps he could glean something under the guise of training.

"_Only one way to find out." _He thought with a sly grin, knowing that more than ever his daughter would challenge him.

"Akane, I'm going to train with Rei. If you need me, I'll be in the dojo." He had not reached the door when she grabbed him by the sleeve, spinning him on his heels. He felt her weight collapse into him desperately, crushing herself against him as she pulled herself up to kiss him. He could see the confusion in her eyes as their embrace ended. He traced the line of her jaw with a hand, and watched her shiver and lean into his touch. She was scared, the ghost of a love long dead returning to torment her and no way to exercise what was apparently never truly dead.

"Ryouga, I love you." He knew she meant those words, as much as he had meant them on their wedding day, the day Rei was born, and a countless number of times the words had come from her in years past. He smiled gently at her.

"And I love you Akane." He knew she wanted his reassurance, and he had granted it. Ranma was a love in her youth, though that was all. She had married him, borne his child. She supposed he must think of her as using him as a replacement, and in truth, he knew that in a way he was. Nevertheless, she had fallen for him. She had resisted his comforts, clung almost steadfastly to Ranma's memory for far too long for him to be insecure about her sincerity. Never once had she called him by Ranma's name, and that was reassurance enough that he was first in her heart. He was happy being second in her heart now, their child taking his place as first to her heart, as it should be.

He broke contact with her reluctantly, feeling the embers of passion she had started in him. No time for that this early in the day, there was much to do before they could express themselves as lovers this evening. He left the house and made the short trip to the dojo. He summoned his battle aura; different from the invisible field he used everyday.

The motion in the dojo ceased and the door slid open. Rei stood before him, every bit of her available power swelling within her. He nodded to the preteen and spoke one word.

"Hajime."

* * *

_Akane_

She heard their clash and the continuing sound of flesh striking flesh. It was a sound that she as a martial artist had heard many times. A crash, indicating the result of an exchange no doubt. She admired how effective a teacher Ryouga was, holding himself back enough that he fought just outside Rei's reach, keeping her striving to defeat him without discouraging her with the inability to so much as land a single blow on her vastly better opponent/sensei. She knew just as any teacher of the art knew that their pupil sought first in their skill to match and then better their sensei. It was a cycle that had gone on for hundreds if not thousands of years. This in fact was the goal of any half decent teacher, seeing their student surpass their skill and then progress on their own, both in life and in the art they taught.

Her desperation to show Ryouga that she truly meant her love for him had gone well; though tears had threatened to spill every instant she had been alone since she read the message from Herb.

"Ranma." The name left her mouth and that was when she realized how she was acting. Her temper flared as she chased the train of thought away, squashing it mercilessly. She wasn't some moonstruck teenager anymore. She was a grown woman, and a mother. She had loved him long ago, and that was never going to go away entirely, but it had gone enough that she would be able to face him. It was going to be hard these next few months; she'd best renew her own training. Ryouga's mastery and capable teaching of the Iron Cloth technique was not limited to their daughter, in fact, it had started with the girls mother. She realized that she could finally prove something that had nagged at her mind for a long time. When Ranma arrived she would show him what she'd in these years, show him the power of her style, and the validity of her skill.

A small smile crept over her features when she went started on dinner.

* * *

_Rei_

She knew now how the hero whose style to this day overrode any other imprint left within the dojo had felt. Her father was vastly stronger than her, and despite holding himself back to merely be an overwhelming opponent she was gleeful in her frantic strategies. Her style was at best an amalgamation of his aerial style, her father and mother's ground oriented style, and the smatterings of original Tendo Ryuu her mother had taught her in the beginning. Every time her father struck she sought a way to use his force to power her attacks. Instead of trying to match his strength she'd long ago utilized soft style approaches to his crushing strength. Absorbing impact for rebound strikes during hit trades. Her entire body screamed in protest at the stress she put upon it, but she knew that come sunset she would feel that which was as precious and dear to her as gold, the raw soreness in her body from pushing herself to her limits.

Her exultation of the art was cut short as she was forced to return her concentration solely to the fight at hand. A devastating punch soared toward her and she knew she'd not be able to avoid it. But she could, she realized, and initiated the maneuver without a second thought. His fist closed in with blinding speed, and with fluidic movement she turned to one side, taking his wrist and giving it a tug, she knew he'd not lose his balance, but her smaller frame allowed her to use his force to increase her rotation. She took to the air in that instant, chambering that same fist. With a piercing cry she was striking out, releasing all the energy she could in this strike. She wanted her father to know her strength, she was going to give as she got, even if just this once.

She realized belatedly that her father was not using the whole of his strength, and as she knew the dodge was coming she watched as nothing happened, her father remaining in place for her technique to connect. She winced as she felt the pain bloom in her hand as the brutal blow struck his jaw, making his head tilt to one side while she was certain she had bruised her fist.

He grinned at her viciously, issuing a palm strike that stole her breath even as it pressed her back ten feet. She lifted her uninjured hand to her chest as she fought for breath. She was good she knew, and had surprised him with that technique, that perhaps was why he hadn't moved, to demonstrate the downside to that attack. She catalogued it for future reference as one not to be used against someone, who like her father, used earth oriented martial arts. She shook her right hand, trying to regain sensations other than the painful throbbing. She had her breath under control again and retook her stance. Her father did the same even as he spoke.

"Good, you realized the same thing he did." Her eyes widened in shock as she realized her mistake. She had used a maneuver that she could only have learned from one person. He knew then, and had been expecting her to resort to such a tactic when faced with his assault. Ranma's style was perfect for fighting her fathers, he having been one of the primary influences to the Saotome male's style.

"That it doesn't work on someone like you." She responded gruffly. She knew that she shouldn't speak so disrespectfully to her father, but he wasn't addressing his daughter, he was speaking to her with a respect one acknowledged of another student of the art, and for that, she would reply to him in kind.

"You know the style then?" She asked simply, studying his guard, looking for a hole. They had at some point begun circling one another. The time for pretense was gone.

"Only what he used on me... and Saffron." She was surprised at her father's admission, that Ranma hadn't used some things against him that he had against his killer; then again, from some of the imprints in the dojo she was unsurprised. Ranma Saotome's style was one of extremes, utilizing techniques for soft incapacitation of his opponent to the other extreme, brutal dismemberment of his enemy. She couldn't be surprised given the sometimes life-threatening nature of his enemies, like the Orochi that her mother had once told her the tale of.

"He's coming back, and when he does something bad is going to happen. I want to help, but I'm not as good as you or him, can you help me?" She was asking him to let her walk into danger. She knew that this was a truly horrible thing for her to do, but she wanted to help in this coming conflict, not be a helpless observer as awful things happened. Her mind raced, and before she could find her focus again he was upon her, raining blows that she could barely manage to block. His power had increased again and training renewed.

_'Thank you.'

* * *

_

_Mu Tzu_

_'Traveling with Saotome when there is no animosity between us is certainly different from what I remember of our youth.'_ He mused as he trekked forth, keeping pace with the two others who walked ahead of him. His sharp ears caught bits of their conversation, but mostly he was left to his own devices during their travel. It was a challenge at times to not tease his old friend about the childish dancing the two did around the subject of their feelings for the other, even if it was as obvious to him as daylight was to a sighted person. His amusement ended though when they stopped for the night and Ranma asked him to show him more of his energy manipulation techniques. He wasn't going to teach Saotome attacks, or his own style, but he'd agreed to teach him the relatively simple techniques that for Ranma would mean the ability to remain in control of his power without exhaustive concentration.

"Alright, I suppose I could do that. Herb is a natural, but I'm more precise from what I've seen." It was true, his energy had always been tied up in other things, Hidden Weapons required a committed allotment of his ki, and so he was unable to use it for projectile attacks when they were young. Now though he could use his power more economically, managing energy attacks, Hidden Weapons, and blind sight.

By the time either had returned to camp that night it was well past dark and both men had learned something. It would take much more than they had done though before either was finished with the things he could learn from and about the other man, let alone about himself. Mu Tzu settled on a rock near the fire, eyes open despite the cataracts that characterized his blindness. Sightless stares watched the area around him, though his senses told him that Ranma and Kiima were talking fifteen meters away. She had apparently been awaiting their return. He can't imagine that her night vision had improved so much as her senses had increased enough that she could pick her path by something other than sight. That made him smile. He had learned to appreciate things such as that.

Their hushed tones and the sounds in the night around them made eavesdropping, even for one such as him, impossible. That didn't bother him though, as their conversations were their own, and it was no his place to interrupt anything that might be between them. He was happy for Ranma, and would toast the day they admitted their feelings for one another.

* * *

_Ku Lon_

She couldn't believe this, they had traveled all the way to Phoenix Mountain, and climbed their way to the Sky Gate, and after all of that, to find out that they'd been gone for days. It was unsettling, and even more so it was the one who delivered the message of their departure. Ku Lon had been surprised to find herself received well, let alone shown to meet with Saffron without fuss. She had expected to find the God King in his true and mature form, but the egg that pulsed in mental communication had shattered all of her notions. He truly was immortal. She shuddered to imagine what he would be like if the ki that she felt emanating from the egg was only what was unneeded for maintaining that form. He had explained some things, and they were things that she much preferred to keep Xian Pu from learning.

She was intelligent, but a secret keeper she was not. Ku Lon had been saddened by her great granddaughter's refusal to take her place among the council, but she reasoned that being new to parenthood was no time for a political career. Sadly, Ku Lon could do nothing to argue to the contrary. Children were of great value to her people, and as much time as they could allow as spent with parents and family. Familial loyalty was the core of Amazon society.

They were preparing to set out once more, the Phoenix gladly giving them what supplies they would need for their new journey. A messenger had been appointed the task of delivering the message to Mu Tzu's parents, informing them of the change in plans, and that they needed to make their journey to Japan. The council's plan had to be defeated, and to do that, she needed to meet with Ranma.

The old woman took a long drag from her pipe, inhaling the calming smoke. Holding her breath a moment to savor the flavor of the leaf she exhaled again, this time releasing what seemed to be a mountain of tension from her withered form.

"You always were trouble Son-in-Law."

* * *

_Phoenix Mountain - Royal Quarters_

"Are you certain old friend, that there is nothing to be done?" The ancient Phoenix man, Kozu, queried of the egg before him.

_"I am afraid that the future lies with those from across the sea. We can only hope that the perseverance Saotome has shown will win him this victory. Dark times approach and the prophecy unfolds, already the strength of the shadows is increased. The saying 'the deeper the darkness, the stronger the light' will have to be our comfort."_ The leader of the phoenix could only be said to have sighed, though the term was inaccurate. A solemn silence hung between the two. A time of tumult was upon the blue planet, and their hopes would rest on one man.

* * *

_Unknown_

The power that hung in the air of the cave thrummed in time with the heartbeats of the two wrinkled forms that were now still, sitting cross-legged on opposite sides of the seal they had created. Their power ebbed and flowed, filling the air evermore with their twisted and incredible power. Fissures in the walls began to spread as the pressure became too much, cracks formed and spider-webbed throughout the cavern, even as stalactites broke free from the ceiling and fell toward them they remained immobile, the heavy spears of stone obliterated on contact with the symbol of power. Two voices, cracked and broken joined the hum of power in the air.

As one their voices pierced the night, screams of triumph as they felt the gate open. Their words uttered in a language long thought lost to mankind.

_"We beckon ye forth, Lord of Midnight. We summon you, o Avatar of Oblivion."_ The array shone one last time before being enveloped by the ebon energy. The darkness concentrated, falling into itself at the point of the summoning circle, swirling, twisting and taking shape. This was the gate, and beyond it, their master. The agonizing weight that hung in the air affected them both, dropping them to their knees. It was only fitting that they bow before their master, and his growing presence seemed to command it be so. Prostrated with eyes lowered they did not see the form that was defined as the gate waned and disappeared.

"Rise." The word was spoken simply, and the two twisted humans could do not but obey. They were subject to the will of their master, and would do as their lord commanded. They would not stand, but instead, rise to one knee, raising their eyes to take in the shape of their liege.

"For what end have you summoned me?" This was the terrible master, Abyssal Shadow, and his name was as accurate as one might ever find. He was man-shaped, but that is where the similarities between he and the ape-descended dominators of the earth ended. Where one part began and the other ended was clear, but beyond that no feature was distinct, leaving the demon a mercurial being of shifting darkness. Chains trailed his form, links broken apart from where they had grappled with him. Their master had been imprisoned and now was free, surely they would be rewarded.

"We have called to you, my lord, to ask a boon in return for the freedom we have helped you achieve." The words were full of false confidence and piety: they had been humbled by his presence, and were merely sheep that acted the part of wolves.

"Ask of me your boon and you shall have it." The cackling that night was beyond description and the world over the people could not help but to shiver as they continued their lives unaware truly of the evil that would be visited upon their reality.

To Be Continued...

A/N: As always, please feel free to leave a comment with any opinions you may have about the progression of the story. I do apologize for the delay, but my computer


	9. True to Form

_"We beckon ye forth, Lord of Midnight. We summon you, o Avatar of Oblivion."_ The array shone one last time before being enveloped by the ebon energy. The darkness concentrated, falling into itself at the point of the summoning circle, swirling, twisting and taking shape. This was the gate, and beyond it, their master. The agonizing weight that hung in the air affected them both, dropping them to their knees. It was only fitting that they bow before their master, and his growing presence seemed to command it be so. Prostrated with eyes lowered they did not see the form that was defined as the gate waned and disappeared.

"Rise." The word was spoken simply, and the two twisted humans could do not but obey. They were subject to the will of their master, and would do as their lord commanded. They would not stand, but instead, rise to one knee, raising their eyes to take in the shape of their liege.

"For what end have you summoned me?" This was the terrible master, Abyssal Shadow, and his name was as accurate as one might ever find. He was man-shaped, but that is where the similarities between he and the ape-descended dominators of the earth ended. Where one part began and the other ended was clear, but beyond that no feature was distinct, leaving the demon a mercurial being of shifting darkness. Chains trailed his form, links broken apart from where they had grappled with him. Their master had been imprisoned and now was free, surely they would be rewarded.

"We have called to you, my lord, to ask a boon in return for the freedom we have helped you achieve." The words were full of false confidence and piety: they had been humbled by his presence, and were merely sheep that acted the part of wolves.

"Ask of me your boon and you shall have it." The cackling that night was beyond description and the world over the people could not help but to shiver as they continued their lives unaware truly of the evil that would be visited upon their reality.

**So Cold**

By: XZero

**Chapter 8 - True to Form**

Skillfully she dismissed the straight punch and similarly parried another set of strong-armed blows before throwing out a seemingly singular attack. The sound of flesh striking flesh was cacophonous, and her husband stumbled back from the force. Her strength had grown in proportion to her skill, until it was equally monstrous as her lover's. Her smirk of satisfaction was shortlived as he rebounded from her blows with a fury that had her reeling. Desperately she swatted away forceful punches at mindbending speed. It would not be enough, several of the shattering attacks hit their mark, and with each she was knocked backward, until at last her defenses fell entirely and she was blown off her feet to careen painfully into the wall of the dojo.

"That's enough. Akane, you're getting better everyday. We'll work on your ki projection after tomorrow's classes." He walked over to her where she lay panting. He'd been driving her hard, but she had asked him to. It had been just as hard these past few days as it had been years prior when she had asked him to continue her training. All the same, he knew that for her sake she needed to be stronger, not only to defeat her enemies, but for her self-confidence.

"Alright." She gasped between breaths, taking the proffered hand-up. Shakily she stood, and slowly began for the door, passing through the threshold and stumbling for the main house.

"Rei, your turn." He said returning to his starting mark, today was the day that he'd increase the difficulty of her training. She had adapted fluidly to the previous level of power quickly, in fact, she had done so amazingly fast. She seemed born for this, and for it the fanged martial instructor was glad. She was his shining scion, his prodigal daughter. Her potential was greater even, in his estimation, than his own, greater perhaps than even Ranma's. She had taken her mark, and at his signal, they began.

* * *

_Mu Tzu_

Parry, evade, duck, counter-attack high left.

Thrust kick forward, back-flip and jump, chain attack circular, whirling defense.

A single bead of sweat dripping down Mousse's brow, though it did nothing to disrupt his concentration, salty perspiration stung his eyes, yes, but for him, vision meant nothing. His senses were finely tuned, and the soft displacement of air that his opponent's fist caused was ample warning. His left arm shot up to parry the strike even as the right summoned a tonfa from within his sleeve, that arm darted forward, intent on delivering strikes with a surgeon's precision at the Tenketsu of his opponent. Energy flow restriction would improve his odds of victory. Already his field of passive energy was being assaulted without quarter by the unmastered might of his adversary. Three of the five strikes were successful and the effects were immediately apparent, the limb was dimmer to his sight, and the sluggish response a tell-tale of sign of his small victory.

Celebration of this accomplishment was short-lived, as his assailant struck him with the uninjured limb. Waves of pain crashed over him as energy formerly channeled into the left arm was shunted into the right. Each impact against his flesh caused a shockwave to travel both through him, and through the air. The itch in his nose was a testament to the cloud of dust rising from the dry ground around them. His 'sight' was clouded not by the dust, but instead by the new agony as his enemy pressed his advantage. His opponent hooked a leg around behind his and pushed against his chest signaling the perfect execution of Osotogari. The pause as the other lashed out with a simple ki-burst was terrible. The golden energy rushed over him even as it detonated, released finally from the tremendous pressure its master kept in under. A spider web of cracks formed in the ground beneath him as he struck it. An acrid smell reached his nostrils and his tempered flared. The duel had been silent until now.

"Damnit Ranma, my shirt!" He groused, even as he gripped the hand that the other man offered.

"Sorry Mousse, I saw an opening and took it. Didn't mean to wreck your shirt." The other man was blushing, the tone was the same as Mousse had come to associate with the memory of the Japanese man's time-tested practice of scratching the back of his head when embarrassed or apologizing, often these times were in synchronicity.

"It's of no consequence. Your skill is improving, your use of simple techniques is a testament. I suppose it is easier now, to see the true usefulness of simplicity. Gods the techniques we used were wasteful. All that energy we wasted on flashy or advanced maneuvers, when the basics are all we ever really needed. Though I suppose skill isn't a matter of how much you know, rather, how you use what you know."

Amazed at the perception of the blind man, Ranma became solemn in near an instant. It was then that the platinum haired woman approached canteens held in each hand. It was her appearance that signaled the real end of the session. Once Kiima stepped to them, each had a different reaction. The energy burns that still throbbed on his chest seemed to take priority, and with a simple gesture of thanks the blind warrior retreated to dress his wounds. Though it was imperceptible to the other two occupants of the training area, finely tuned ears stayed tuned to the others long enough only to catch the critique of his opponent's performance. His low chuckles went unnoticed as the two moved away, continuing their quiet conversation.

* * *

_Rei_

Jab, counterattack, parry high, foot-sweep, feint, rising asp strike, back-flip, stance change.

Rei was panting, and the sweat that stung her eyes even as she wiped it left her open for an eternity. Her opponent took no action. Her father was faster, stronger, more sklilled than she, and had two decades of experience on her. She had no real chance, no, but her style was meant to counter the very basics of his own, and in truth she still had a few tricks from the echoes left to surprise him with. Her control was first rate, though it wasn't at her goal yet. The only battle aura she could manifest at present was still very shaky, but that was alright. Next time he closed in, she would unleash her secret, let loose the true power of this style.

He was impressed, they had been training for almost four hours straight, in a constant spar for three, and more than once he'd had to increase his tempo to match her growing fluidity, true, she'd only been sparring with him, and her skill against him would be different from her skill against another, but his daughter had grown by leaps and bounds in the past weeks since they had began.

He studied her as he left his thoughts, she'd caught her breath, and had managed to bring her heart rate under control. She took a moment to wipe sweat from her forehead, and instead of charging forward, paused. He saw the look of confusion pass over her features, but it remained only for an instant. A smirk graced her lips, and a memory within him surged to the surface. His rival and best friend stood before him, not the raven haired girl he'd raised. In that moment he heard the words that he'd come to miss, part of the ritual of battle between them.

"What're ya waitin' for pig-boy?" To his shock it had been Rei who'd spoken, quoting a man who had been "dead" for years now. He looked into her eyes, and within them saw his spirit. Her stance changed slightly, falling into the stance that signified Saotome Anything Goes. Wisps of blue flame limned her body, and then retreated. Power blazed just behind her eyes in a tightly restrained tempest.

His own expression twisted into a smile, and in an instant his suppressed ki experienced a moment of release, his charge and subsequent combo trapped her against a wall. She'd retreated far too much, and the frown and scoff displayed it.

"Quit running away." He sounded to himself much like he had years ago, though his words now were not filled with the rage that blinded him then. He pressed his advantage then, and that was when her smirk turned into a feral grin.

He had a moment to process the attack she unleashed, but even if he'd brought his power back to full it was too late to avoid.

Her moment came, and the blazing fist struck her father's exposed chest. The moment he committed to the attack she had shifted her momentum in the way she'd dreamed. As she took her last step back she willed herself to rock back on one foot, and in an instant change direction, powering forward into her father's guard and releasing the built-up energy from both the momentum and her spirit into a single blow. Blue fire erupted from her clenched fist, striking her sensei square in his unprotected chest. The move would never work again, but then, it didn't need to, she had achieved what she wanted, and would adapt the technique into her arsenal of regular attacks now that it had been tested. Drained she fell to her knees, cursing herself for using so much of her already direly taxed strength.

A shadow fell over her, and she saw her father standing over her with a smile on his face.

"Congratulations, you caught me off guard with that one. He never used that one on me, what's it called?"

She smiled as he praised her cunning, and smiled even more when he asked it's name.

"Reiatsu Dageki"

The technique was literally named, and the both of them could not help but to laugh, they continued to laugh for quite some time, just the two.

* * *

_Ku Lon_

The ancient woman and her grandchild had continued on from the meeting with the Phoenix King at breakneck speeds, spending as little time as possible at rest, and pushing themselves to exhaustion, traveling hours at a time without rest. Sleep was taken only in short stints at a rushed camp. Their people had survived millennia, and it was through this inherited perseverance that neither woman accepted the fatigue that plagued them. It was that two weeks of this sort of travel had found them touching the sea of Japan. They would find charter from this small port, just as they had previously. Swimming was not an option, and the sister who had helped them cross before was far too old now to manage the journey. With resolution they made their way to the home of the woman.

_Tso Pu_

Tso Pu was not your ordinary young woman. She and her brothers bore an interesting profession. Their family was of proud Amazon stock, and her father a master Martial Angler. She had not given much thought to the absurdity of her family's less than normal background, until she went to school. The limited schooling she had received, chiefly from Christian missionaries, was enough for her to know that her raising was not ordinary, even among her fellow Chinese. The village she hailed from, if even it could be given such a title, being no more than a handful of families cohabitating, was a speck of dust on the coast of China.

She reveled as a child in stories of the Amazon's of old: mythical women who wielded martial skill and spiritual power with heroic strength, and determined ferocity. For her, it was emboldening, for while her family was Amazon, the other few families were not, and she had been looked down on by her peers, boys all, at least, the ones who attended the indoctrinating grammar school.

Even the girls, few and subservient that they were, shunned her. She represented something they could not cope with, not while they were trapped as servants in their own homes. They hated her, and while her mother insisted it was because the males, she would always remember the way her mother's eyes narrowed and venom reviled in her mouth as she spat that word – though she never since then spoke so cruelly of men – taught them to do so, to ostracize her and break her spirit, she knew that it was because in truth they were jealous of her independence and freedom.

Never in her life did she expect the surprise she would receive this day. A knock from the door was the summons that changed her life. Pulling open the heavy door she saw no one, at least, not until she gazed downward, to see…

"Ah! Mummy, kill it!" The words issued from her and before she knew the better, a flare of pain erupted in her head. Her hand lifted to massage the sudden pain and she saw the instrument of delivery. A gnarled wooden staff, four feet in length, and grasped solidly by the withered creature that stood before her.

Another presence came to her attention, and suddenly she understood. Another woman, this one garbed in a style that her own mother insisted upon, though this was far more informal, it perfectly matched her mother's description of Amazon battle attire. The bonbori and Ming resting at each hip confirmed it. Taking another glance at the woman only further solidified the conclusion she had rightly come to.

"I apologize for grandmother, she meant no offense, merely that an old friend habitually referred to her that way, and received the same punishment for his flippancy." The lavender haired woman explained, her gentle smile disarmed the young and turquoise tressed angler. From behind her another voice called out, this one with extreme joy. Her mother.

"Elder and, Xian…? Xian Pu is that you?" The elder bluette queried as if shocked. At a nod, her smile blossomed anew. She had not expected to see these two women again in her lifetime, especially not the ancient woman that stood before her now. They were both travel worn, and apparently, very much in need of her family's services again.

"Pu, go get your brothers, you're going to be going on a trip tomorrow, isn't that right elder?" She was far from offended by their presence, it was a blessing to have even momentary contact with sisters from her home. Since she had married her husband, she had precious little contact with the world she'd grown up in. It was saddening, but ultimately worth it. Her husband's spirit was far too wild to broken within the confines of their village, and even worse, his skills, tied as they were to the sea, would be rendered useless by remaining in a landlocked region such as the Jusenkyo Valley.

It had been a hard change, coming here, so far from her family, but the happiness she had known with her husband had proven worth it. It had been more than a decade since she had last seen Ku Lon and her great granddaughter, and the purple haired woman had grown into such a woman, but Ku Lon remained unchanged, and for that, Lo Xian was grateful. The elder had been an immutable part of her youth, and her wisdom had meant so much to the woman in her youth, even now, she was reverent of the ancient woman.

"Yes child, I'm afraid so. Once again we seem to be going after Son-in-law, his penchant for trouble seems to have grown since his incarceration at Phoenix Mount. He travels now for Japan, returning home, accompanied by Xian Pu's husband Mu Tzu and the Captain of Saffron's imperial guard." The diminutive woman then began to chuckle, and Lo Xian joined in, followed by Xian Pu, and all Tso Pu could do was stare on in confusion.

* * *

_Saffron_

It was times like these the pheonix wished he'd been fully awakened, then he could pace out his frustrations instead of letting ghis rising ire smoulder, though he would not use such a pun in description. Before him knelt three of his finest trackers, and their report was nothing less than terrible. Only a day before he'd felt a wave of energy unknown to the world for several thousand years emerge did they say he'd lost scouts. Guard duty had been light with the preparations for his coming rebirth ceremony. Those who would otherwise be dedicated to the post of sentry were instead being spread throughotu the region, gathering certain necessities. Herbs and crops were being gathered for the feast that would follow. Foremost though the search for animals to be used as sacrifice was painfully slow.

"Well done, you are dismissed. Hytari!" His subtle intonations took shape in the minds of his soldiers, and with deep bows the three avians retreated from the chamber, only to be replaced almost immediately by another man, this one lacking the wings of the armsmen whose position he'd just filled. This man, though for all the world he seemed a member of the avain race, lacked the hereditary wings of his people.

"Yes my liege?" He repiled formally, resting on one knee with one hand balled over his heart and the other cupped over the pommel of his sword.

"I wish for you to bear a message to the Musk and Amazon nations. Kozu, if you would be so kind, would you give him the message?" To say that the steel eyed youth was surprised by the lack of formality between the King and the ancient loremaster was no small understatement. Turning grey eyes back to his king, he received the message without comment. He was used to such missions, where he lacked wings, he more than made up for this disability with his fierce determination and obsessive physical training.

"To whom shall I deliever these messages, my lord?" The man queried only to find himself excluded from what appeared to be a private conversation between Kozu and the king. Saffron's egg pulsed and the emanation of energy felt impatient, though the messages he sent to the man were direct instead of the usual emanations the king employed. It still awed him the power his lord must posess to use such a complex method of communication. Then again, who was to say the ability of a walking diety, whether in the shape of an egg or in that of a bird of flame.

After only a few moments their conversation ended, and without missing a beat the wisps of power connecting the two dulled, before once again the3 phoenix king's voice resumed in his mind.

"You are to deliver these scrolls to council of elders within Joketsuzoku and to none other than Herb. Under no circumstances are either of these scrolls to be seen by any other, your self included. If they are in danger of being taken from you, destroy them, and try your best to return to us without fear of reprisal. I entrust this mission to you above any other. Go child with the blessing of your king." There was no question about the seriousness of his mission, but then there hardly ever was. Saffron entrusted to him only missions of extreme sensitivty, solo missions all, and often time sensitive. He considered each an honor, and this was no different. A smile crept onto his face as he strode from the audience chamber, the royal guard stationed beyond the portal gazing in wonderment at the outcast, unable but to question the reasons one such as he would leave any audience with their king anything less than discouraged.

Hytari gathered his affects and prepared himself for the long circuitous journey around the three territories of the Jusenkyo valley. Tightening the cinch on his traveling pack the flightless pheonix messenger leapt from the skygate, rebounding from outcrop to ledge, leaping down the mountain's side with incredible grace the silver haired avian began on his mission, it would take a week, but it was without doubt that whatever the course of his mission, it would not be so easy as it seemed, errands for his King never were.

* * *

_Ranma_

Uncomfortable at the thought of charity, the reborn Saotome repeatedly tugged at the braid that so personified him. He mused at that, he had kept the same hairstyle for over thirty years, and to his reckoning, there was no need to change now, though that was not the subject of his attention. What occupied him presently was the strange feeling of standing on a pedestal in nothing but his underwear while a man danced around him humming.

He truly did appreciate Kiima's thoughtfulness. He'd been gazing at the window of this very tailory. Ranma had never been the sentimental type but the tang setting on display called to him as it had years ago. This one was to be special, it would be beautifully embroidered. Kiima had drawn freehand the pattern of a blue dragon coiling around the right arm and a gold highlighted pheonix soaring from heart to left shoulder. Praise turned her cheeks a rosy hue, and she giggled, presently her friend a dazzling smile.

Afterward it had been all business, though the time it was taking really was baffling to Ranma, who'd never really been fitted for anything in his life. How many measurements could a simple pair of pants take? He remembered his father making larger pants out of old, and then teaching him to do the same as he was growing. He was by no means a professional, but he didn't remember needing to know nearly as much. The crafter spent minutes taking down a number of measurements that Ranma didn't realize were necessary, including the size of his ankles and knees.

A slight poke jarred him from the thoughts, and in so doing reminded him of why he was so nervous. Kiima sat in a chair no more than five feet from him, watching the fitting proceed with a poorly performed look of part of it all that made him uncomfortable were exactly how many measurements one needed to make a pair of pants, and precisely what needed measuring. So far the man had checked, waist, inseam overall length, thigh and calf circumfrence.

The tailor finished his measurements in time with his hummed tune, and for the first time, seemed to actually take note of the person he'd been fitting. He saw the nervousness of his customer and spared a moment to glance between Ranma and Kiima, nodding to himself before speaking.

"Would you care for something to drink while I get to work?" he asked as a courtesy, afterall, when a customer came to order something of this magnitude, he was more than eager to please.

"Yes, though I think water should be fine. Ranma, you seem to be sweating." She emphasized the last word, and when the raven haired man looked at his reflection there was indeed light emanating from his skin, on closer inspection though he could see that the light was not illuminating the sweat on his now pale skin, Once again his aura had begun to leak into his atmosphere. He'd thought he'd gotten control of the power, but it seemed that he was still prone to bouts of lapse.

He closed his eyes where he stood, and cleared his mind, finding that it was filled with anxiety, though he attributed that to standing nearly naked in front of Kiima. His musing was interrupted when the tailor returned with their drinks. Ranma could not help but grow wide-eyed at the man carrying the water on a tray. Likely it was cold, and that thought alone sent another shiver throughout his body, raising goose-flesh across his body. The man moved easily, giving the silver haired avian woman her glass.

_"This is the test"_ The half naked martial artist thought to himself. Since he'd reawoken from his imprisonment, he'd not come in contact with cold water, all of his meals being fresh and served with tea, and excess water being scarce in the mountain. Once a heating pipe had burst, and from it had emerged water, and indeed it had soaked him, but the water had been lukewarm. His curse had been strangely absent from his life, and he for one hadn't been one to complain, hoping the thing gone. The outfitter handed him his glass, and did not spill a drop, allowing the ur-teen to relax. He even calmed enough to raise his glass to his lips, drinking deep and enjoying the cool refreshment. That was when it happened.

A jolt shot through him, and simultaneously, the glass exploded in his hands, projecting tiny shards of glass about the room, none larger than a thumbnail. The tailor squeaked in fright, and Kiima stiffened noticably, her eyes growing wide. Ranma's did the same, a horrible feeling of despair overtaking him as his eyes were drawn in the direction of Pheonix Mountain. Though he could not see the mountain, or the valley, it was not with his eyes he looked. The burst of power that flared was evil, but strangely familiar. Dread crept along his spine as he shared a look with Kiima, before realization set in. In the background there was a dull thud.

He noticed the difference in his weight distribution, the change in perspective, and the absence of his manhood at that moment, and growled his frustration to the heavens. It was still there. With more than a little resentment, he'd turned around again, staring into a mirror to see the face that was not his. Wait, this was not his face, not even the elven features of the redhaired girl. This woman was different, shorter still than his male aspect, this woman was half a head shorter than he ordinarily stood, and her features were still the same, though she gave the image of a yuki-onna. What was once slightly cold male flesh had been tinged blue, as if caught unprepared in a blizzard and left frostbitten. Her features were the same, but seeing them there, on a woman, instead of a girl, was disconcerting. A greater change was the darkening of her hair, it had once been a vibrant and loud red, noticable as a traffic light. Now it had darkened to the color of fresh blood. Gazing down a bit more, she lifted a hand and felt her chest, it was, smaller? No, not smaller, just better proportioned to the woman she was instead or the child she had been. Sighing, the pigtailed aquatransexual gave a pitiable glance to his companion, hoping for some sympathy, to find that she too had been inspecting the changed curse body. When their eyes met, a faint blush tinged her cheeks, and she looked down.

"Ranma?" Kiima could not help but ask, staring at the very different, but incredibly similar woman. She fought down a blush of her own. Ranma's garb was not intended to restrain her generous busom, and so was straining the muscle shirt he'd been wearing. She shook her head once, and gazed at the tailor, noting his reaction. Standing she went to stand beside the man, sighing as she noted his state. He had fainted, not an unreasonable reaction to seeing a sculpted display of manly features shift seamlessly into a voluptuous ice woman. The change was startling even to she, though not for the same reasons.

"I'll get you some hot water so you can change back, then we will wake the tailor and pretend he didn't see, alright?" She suggested, feeling that discretion in this matter, and removing the discomfort from her friend to be paramount. They could have the conversation that would inevitably come in a private setting, and not while the owner of this store lay crumpled on the floor.

"Uh... Yeah, thanks." The woman spoke now for the first time, and instead of the high pitched voice that was once hers, dulcet tones that conveyed unparalleled femininity issued from her throat. The other woman could only feel herself further surprised. If she didn't know better, she would have been inclined to believe that the tone was intentional. Shrugging to herself to dispel the lingering effects of seeing this all, she simply walked into the same area the tailor himself had just come from.

Internalizing his feelings had always been a problem for the pigtailed man, and it was no different now, twenty years later and as a woman. But as Kiima returned with a cup that spilled steam over the edge of its brim, a well of tears reached his eyelids. Drops of crystal fluid dripped down one cheek, and the hormonal changes caught up. The not-she stepped forward into the taller woman, arms flung round her waist even as the bawling began.

Fears and uncertainties, these things were for mortal beings, but Ranma had succumb to them just the same. Perhaps he was not the untounchable figure she had made him to be. He was human, with all the same emotions as everyone else. Right now though, he was her friend in need. She could not deny attraction, and she suspected he too felt something, if the shy manner that would develop about him at times was any indication. She remembered keenly thier interaction these past few days, but as they drew closer to Japan the weight of his emotions hung heavier over him. She feared for him, he had found a place for himself within her heart, and though it had not developed into anything beyond companionship, she could not deny the flush that contact with him brought to her.

"Why can't you share this burden?" She muttered into the hair of the calming redhead. Small sounds in her throat and gentle, meaningless words, seemed to comfort Ranma, but Kiima could not help but notice something else. The warmth of the other woman's touch was astounding, not for its heat, nor its lack, instead she felt no different than any other. The frost that collected from her breaths was chilling against her breasts, and when she shivered in response she could feel her companion draw back, eyes impossibly large for one so small. She seemed to have collected herself, Kiima's gasp drawing her back to herself.

"I'm sorry." The pigtailed woman apologized, reaching out to take Kiima's larger hands into her own. Flushing Kiima felt heat rise in her chest, not unlike what she felt from Ranma's proximity normally, not unlike, but not the case. Instead when her eyes fluttered closed and then open again she observed the crimson tressed womans look of concentration.

"Thank you Kiima." And to the other woman's surprise, lifted on tiptoes to kiss her cheek.

She settled herself again and watched as Kiima blushed cutely. Taking a beat to regain her composure, Ranma proceeded to lift her arm to her face, wiping away the tears.

A throat cleared, and the crimson tressed woman, froze in place, shock written across her features. Jerikly she turned on her heel and looked at the unseeing eyes of Mousse. He'd seen her, and mortification crossed her features before he spoke.

"Ranma, I have the hot water." His voice, and the lack of mocking in his tone eased her. She had forgotten how much he'd changed, not to mention that he was indeed even in the building. She looked at the cup of water in his hands, and noted that it was different then the one from before. A quick glance told her why. The previous ceramic mug had spilled. Swallowing heavily she took the new glass from Mousse, and with a shudder, drew it up and dumped its contents onto herself. Feeling the ripple of change course through her body once more. Things taking the place they belonged. The blue tone of her skin warmed, and the red washed out of his hair, black taking its place. For a moment he lost control of his aura and it flared around him. Golden light receded and the effect was obvious, that little discharge had dried him instantaneously, doing the same to the spill of water at her feet.

The tailor woke and didn't know what to think. He seemed to accept the story they gave him, he'd merely fainted. He apologized for the delay and continued as if nothing had happened.

An hour later they emerged from the tailor, Ranma's backpack bearing the added clothing. He wore a fresh set of the red and black for which he had become known, arms bare but for a pair of leather forearm guards and black slacks tied close at both waist and ankle. Saotome Ranma was back, and would return to Japan the next day, Kiima could not shake the feeling of nostalgia at seeing her blue eyed friend in that clothing. But when her thoughts turned to their journey, she felt the weight of Saffron's worry upon her mind. Whatever was happening, when Ranma did return to Japan, something would happen, and it would change their entire world forever.

* * *

_Unknown_

"We desire youth and beauty, we desire a chance to once again feel in our prime." A dark smile seemed to spread across untextured form of coalesced darkness, these were the best sort, shortsighted but powerful, they would serve his will marverlously.

A/N: It's been awhile, hasn't it? Honestly, there is no real life excuse, no drive crash. I simply lost my muse some time ago, and only now am I trying to get it back. There's no telling how long it will be before another chapter comes your way, but I honestly hope for the answer to be soon.

Reiatsu Dageki – Spirit Pressure Strike – Borrowing from tai chi, this technique is mainly performed by novices of ki manipulation, the bodily motion is not truly necessary, but it helps as a visualization tool for the artist performing the manuever. This is a beginning stage to firing a ki blast, delivering the energy in a burst that comes from the fist.


	10. Depth

He had been a tailor for decades, all of his adult life. A sigh escaped him as he considered the oddities that many of his myriad of customers over the years had presented him. The bit of glass held between his fingers was something that didn't make sense to him, that man he fitted earlier that week had under no circumstances become a strange blue woman, that was impossible. Yet the thin slice in his finger did not lie, the glass that had shattered in the man's hand as the water seemed to melt him into her was in pieces, and what explanation could there be for that if nothing of the sort had ever happened?

Thinking about it too closely was hurting his head, and at his age, did it even really matter anymore? Strange things were happening, why just the week before there had been a mummy sighting in his hometown a bit further down the coast.

**So Cold**

By: XZero

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Chapter 9 - Depth**

A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he gazed over the edge of the transport ship, Korea had become a hot zone during his prolonged sleep, and so an overland trek and a short two day swim was out of the question. With North Korea actively hostile with their southern counterparts the companions could not risk crossing down the peninsula a swim, increased coastal patrols closed the gap that Ranma and his father had once used to gain South Korea when on their way into China.

This fishing boat they'd secured passage on certainly dealt with that, although it had not come without cost. They were expected to assist with the nets, and myriad other tasks aboard the rural ship. They had no time to assist Ranma in furthering his control, which, while not perfect, was such that he no longer emit a bonfire aura at all times, or leaked power at the slightest interruption of his concentration. Mousse assured him that in time he'd attain a level of control more akin to how he once was, rather than the boorish control he felt he now had. It was at once a bolster to his depleted ego, and a frustration that burned at his pride. He was once the most precisely controlled of all his friends, and now he was a child by comparison, everyone he knew had aged, and he was a stranger in his own body.

It was at moments like these that the raven haired martial artist wished he could bring himself to the oblivion brought by alcohol, anything to save him from this bleak reality. Certainly, he was now enjoying the company of Kiima, a beautiful woman, but more than the hormone driven lust he felt and squelched with his ironclad will, he was uncomfortable with her. He could sense her attraction to him, which was hard to miss, but he didn't know how to feel about the situation, for him, it had been less than three months since she had been his enemy for Akane's life. Now, she was perhaps his closest friend, and the lingering emotions he felt for the women in his past were older, and confusing in their absence.

Growling in frustration he smacked a palm against the rail, inadvertently denting it deeply.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't wreck my boat young man." A wheezing voice stated from behind him. The shock of being caught off guard froze him in place, gasping aloud as he spun to face the ship's captain. The man was leather-skinned and short, barely taller than his female aspect used to be. Barely five foot or not, the old man was experienced, and still strong. He stood upright and confidently. Ranma looked down at the dented rail and flinched. He'd lost control of himself and broken something, which frankly just irritated him more at this point. Why couldn't things just go back to the way they were?

"I... I'm sorry, I'll fix it, I promise." He tried to reassure the man, but at the same time display his penitence. His pitiful look succeeded at something.

"That's alright young man. Perhaps you'd care to talk about whatever it is troubling you?" The older man stepped up to the railing, and could rest his chest against it without much leaning, which just stuck out to Ranma again how much taller he was. He'd become accustomed to his greater reach and change in balance. But his perspective remained stubbornly the one he'd had when he was frozen. The world was a little smaller to him now, and he couldn't reconcile it, and that frustrated and angered him.

"Sure, couldn't hurt much." Ranma muttered to himself, still unsure how to explain the situation without convincing the man that he was crazy. "You know how me, an' Mousse, an' Kiima are martial artists? You know, really good ones?" The old man was certainly familiar enough with their casual feats of superhuman strength and agility to understand that much.

"Sure, though y'all manage to do some stuff I don't think I've ever seen done before." The boy's explanation of martial arts was perhaps the least unbelievable thing he could imagine to explain their powers.

"Did you hear about that mountain that got it's top blown off twenty years ago?" He hoped the man knew of destruction of Jusendo's summit, it would help his cause.

"Yeah, I remember. Not everyday that tornadoes and bombs hit the same spot on top of a mountain." The old man couldn't understand how this could possible have anything to do with what the young man was talking about. Hell, how should this youngster even know about that. He appeared to be no older than his middle twenties, certainly not old enough to remember the significance of a mostly obscure event in China. The Japanese weren't exactly known to be the most social of the Asiatic peoples.

"Well, I was there. I was fighting this guy who could shoot fire, and just wouldn't go down. I thought I was going to lose everything. My fiancee at the time was in danger if I didn't beat him." Kiima was approaching them now, he could feel her. Perfect, as much as he didn't want a confrontation with her, she deserved to know why he hadn't done anything to advance their relationship, which was awkward in its present form.

"I fought against Kiima, an' against the leader of her people." He grasped the Gekkaja from the metal tube the staffs were stored in. Twirling it in his grip he pointed it out at the water, igniting a portion of his aura to power the staff. The old man's gasp and widened eyes weren't unexpected, hell, Ranma would likely have been in shock if the old man had not.

"Until I got my hands on this staff. I knew what it could do, and I thought that if I used it to freeze myself, than the fireball that was heading for me would just thaw me again. Boy was I wrong. Before I knew what was happening, I saw everyone who'd come with me to save Akane, I saw all of them die. Except, they hadn't died at all, because the fireball was just to keep them away from us all, threaten and taunt me because I was helpless to save them, to save her." He voice was rough, and there was a sound like something caught in his chest.

Kiima, unsure of herself, hung back, listening to Ranma's admissions. He had refused to talk about any of this while they were still at the mountain, and now she understood. How does one reconcile their life, reconcile the changes and the frankly outlandish situation, by talking to someone who once was involved. This old man didn't know Ranma, couldn't truly judge him. His opinion of the pigtailed man didn't matter in the least. And that is why he was perfect for this. Because he was someone who didn't matter.

"When I stabbed myself with the Gekkaja, I didn't count on the fact that the staff needed ki to trigger the effects it used, and that stabbing myself with it when there was nothing to thaw me quick enough, that I'd start to freeze over completely." His voice was breaking at point, but even as he slid the staff back into the tube he continued.

"I was frozen... for twenty years." He blurted out, and at that moment, all the sounds of the ocean were as distant echoes to the gravity of his pronouncement. "And now everyone I knew is older than me, and my ki, something that used to be controlled, is wild, and a lot stronger than I'm used to."

"Young man, I don't know what kind of magic that was, and I don't wanna know. But it sounds to me like your problem isn't so difficult." The older man straightened and turned away from the sea, facing Kiima even as he spoke to Ranma. "Your problem is that you don't know if you can get your life back under your control, back to something resembling what you are used to, am I right?" Ranma nodded dumbly, turning to look at the man.

"Life don't work like that. You see the ocean? That's life, waves, ebbs and flows. All you can really do is try to balance yourself so that when they come, you don't get knocked down, or pulled under. Things are a lot less complicated than you're making them out to be. So things are different now? Well, so what? Things are always changing. Just go with the flow. And maybe start by being straight about where things stand between you and your lady friend." He gathered himself to head back to his cabin.

"Either way, even if you're confused, making no decision is worse than making the wrong one, so whatever you're going to do, do it." He started moving off toward his cabin, leaving Ranma dazed by his words.

Kiima, seeing the man go, mouthed a silent 'thank you' to the old man, who merely nodded in return. She chose then to approach Ranma, she wouldn't talk to him about what she'd heard, but undoubtedly he knew she heard it. He didn't react when she stood next to him, and she took that as a good sign, more so when he gazed at her with a soft look in his eye. She smiled and was about to say something when a voice broke the silence.

"And fix the railing while you're at it!"

* * *

_Ryouga_

"I don't get it 'kane, she's ridiculously good, and she's using his style. How can this be? None of this makes any sense." Ryouga ran his hands roughly through his dark hair, sighing and squeezing his eyes shut as the tension built between them. "She wasn't this good just six months ago, not unless she's been hiding it, and doing that implies even more familiarity between her style and Ranma's hidden one." She knew which one he was talking about, Ranma rarely used his hidden style, it was going to be his contribution to the Anything Goes Ryu, but it hadn't been finished. The only scrolls that described his techniques were kept at the Saotome home, a part of his shrine.

"I don't know either. But now that I think about it, her drawings all these years, they've had a common theme." She didn't have to say more. Ryouga and Akane had told their daughter idealized versions of their adventures as teens. They'd kept certain parts out of their tales, but her drawings as a little girl, and even now were of the things they had left out. She had drawn the Orochi, she'd drawn the dragon tap, three months ago she'd won an art contest in class, and when asked, she'd replied that she was drawing them from her imagination. That she dreamed about heroes frequently. They had brushed it off at the time, thinking them the idle fancies of an adolescent girl.

Almost frantically, Akane went to the folder where she'd kept the drawings, Ryouga sighed upon seeing the faded and abused blue file case, Akane was a pack rat of unimaginable intensity, every scrap of paper that Rei had brought home had been out into a folder like that, and the blue one contained everything from Rei's first doodles on anything she could get her tiny hands on, to her art class things. Rei excelled at art class. But now, he could see that she had a goal in mind. The drawings were often varied, but Akane, who would look through this collection every few months, crying and proud, knew better than anyone its contents.

"Ryouga, take a look at these." One by one she would leaf through the stack of pages, carefully ordered according to age, and draw one or two out at a time, setting them aside and continuing her search. Several of them were incoherent, but upon closer inspection, going back as far as age six, Rei's drawings were almost never without intent, if confusing form. With improving clarity he could see events that had been alluded to during Ranma's life. A page filled with clumsy green or blue dots, surrounding a vague shape on a field of black construction paper. Another of a cart and garishly dressed man. The strangest of them was of a pork bun. The trend continued on, becoming more defined as the young girl gained practice at putting imagination to medium.

"My God!" Ryouga exclaimed, reaching a leaf containing an image of an eerily familiar set of of pools. "Jusenkyou." He stumbled over the word, disbelieving. His wide and fearful gaze turned to Akane. He'd never seen this one, and from the look on her face, and the condition of the drawing, it was fairly old.

"I never knew what the springs actually looked like, Rei just said that it was something she'd seen in a dream once and felt like drawing." Her voiced was haunted, and the fear in her eyes was deep. She had expended her tears, but the terror she felt did not abide. Nothing she could have ever imagined had prepared her for Ranma to return from the dead, especially not if he'd be bringing something back with him. Rei had drawn the past, things she couldn't have known about but seemed to anyway.

They had known that she saw things that no one else did, and she knew things that she should not, but this was irrefutable, was strange, not unlike the sort of weird that Ranma brought to the ward.

"What should we do? How long do you think this has been going on like it is now? You said that she's only been improving drastically over the last few months? Do you think that's when it started?" Akane seemed frantic, she didn't want the strangeness that had interrupted and pained her teenage years to ruin her daughter as well.

"I don't know Akane, I don't know." Truly, there wasn't anything to be done, either Rei would volunteer the information or she wouldn't, but Ryouga didn't want to ask too much, invite more curiosity on the subject than she already had. Encouraging this could be disastrous

"Perhaps you should just ask her?" Came a voice from the door, where, leaning on the frame was their daughter. She had done her hair up in a low ponytail, and the ghost of a smile lit her features. She was beginning to frown, something in her expression unclear to them. Akane stepped forward, the emotions of their attempt at understanding what was happening finally having an outlet. One step was all it took before she charged her daughter, taking her into a crushing hug. Her eyes clenched tightly closed, Akane wanted nothing more than to never again let her daughter out of her grasp, fearful that she would just vanish.

"Mom... need air." The young woman wheezed, the tremendous strength her mother possessed working to their mutual disadvantage. Startled, Akane loosened the grasp she had on her child, but did not concede to release her. She took a half step back, gazing down into her daughter's eyes, beautiful brown eyes. They were the same shade as Ryouga's and just as expressive, and at this moment, they were expressing an uncommon irritation.

"Now, like I was saying." The preteen stepped out of her mother's embrace and moved further into the room. "I didn't want to tell you this, because if you know then you might act differently." She paused again, tears misting now in her eyes, her indignation beaten out by some other emotion.

"Daddy, when he tells you to stay back, listen." She didn't clarify, her eyes looked into space, and Ryouga could tell that she was remembering something, a part of him realizing that she was remembering something that had yet to occur. Her trembling lip and wet eyes told him that if he didn't remember this advice, that he might not survive to regret it.

Ryouga nodded firmly, and just like that, the confidence and strength in his daughter seemed to vanish, and she was weeping. He stepped forward, enveloping the young girl in his arms, her tears soaking hotly into his chest, while Akane came around to hug their child from the another side. The three of them stood in a family hug for some time before things were even close to right again.

* * *

_Khu Lon_

She and Xian Pu had made good time, the fishing vessel had brought them all the way from the coastal town to a small port where Japanese inspectors would not likely harass them as the disembarked. To be sure, they did come in under cover of darkness, a mile from shore. The old women felt the chill of the water in her bones, and with that reminder, other details crept into her observations. Her condition was not what it once was. She had clung to life with a dragon's stubborn jealousy for almost three hundred years. Perhaps her time was coming soon, but whether it was coming or not, she was not ready, and so death, and the gods would have to wait. Over her shoulder she noted Xian climbing from the waves onto shore. Her lavender hair was streaked with silver, stress did that to parents, in fact, she had only been thirty or so when the first shocks of silver appeared in her now white locks. She was an old woman, and she hoped, that much as she had, Xian could watch several generations of daughters become women.

"Xian, we will rest a bit further ahead for the night, after we've dried off of course." At seeing her great-great-granddaughter's relief, she could not help but chuckle softly. Xian Pu may be a grown woman now, and indeed a mother, but she was little changed from the small girl she remembered. The younger woman could be relied upon to swim the entire length of the distance from China to Japan, and still fight any number of skilled enemies when she drug herself from the surf, but give her the choice, and she would rest and perhaps sneak a few sweets. Khu Lon smiled wistfully. Would she live to see the mischief the latest generation would get into? She was beginning to think not, but this needed to be done. Something was indeed brewing, her senses hadn't escaped her, she could feel it. They had traveled away from the shore for only an hour and found a suitable campsite when something took her from contemplations of mortality.

"Grandmother?" Xian's voice is what drew her attention. She lifted an eyebrow at the figures swiftly approaching them.

"Well I'll be. Mint and Lime, what brings you out here?" She had a clue of course, but the simple men would tell her, confirming things.

"Greetings Elder, we felt your presence as we were headed toward the coast. We thought to share some information with you. May we join your camp?" She was surprised, though she did not show it. All the same, Herb had apparently done a great deal to educate the louts, for she remembered their uncivilized behavior when last she saw them. There it was again, wistful remembrance creeping and trying to steal her mind to the past. Imperceptibly she shook herself from the daydream, smiling cryptically to mask her inattention.

"Of course boys, of course, come sit, and share with us your story." She gestured to a stretch of ground across the fire from herself, and the men sat hastily, a pair of tired sighs escaping their lips as they sank to the ground.

Mint began immediately, and without doubt, they would have much to ponder that night.

**A/N**: Much quicker this time. Certainly, this isn't my finest, and is rather less than I thought, but I promise, this is going to be the last travel/filler chapter before Nerima, and the reunion. That one is going to be not only interesting, but a bloody pain to write. I'm a full time accounting student, so its gonna undoubtedly be awhile between this and the next, though not nearly as long as the last wait. Thanks folks, for your consistent support, finding that most all of those who'd once reviewed are doing so again is a great lift to my spirits. Maybe I'll be good at this writing thing one day.


	11. The Return

It seemed that the air and very nature of the world understood the importance of that morning. An unnatural stillness had overtaken the town. Three figures crested the final hilltop that preceded the approach to Nerima, and in the frosted dawn things changed, as they once had, they did again.

**XZero** Presents

So Cold

Chapter 10 - The Return

_Outskirts of Nerima_

"Ranma, are you okay?" Kiima's soft voice broke the silence that filled the air with an oppressive weight. Ranma's aura had been fluctuating since last night, a turbulent look stuck in place across his ordinarily carefree features. He was likely worried about his reception here. His family was here, and they had moved on without him.

"Yeah. I'm..." She didn't wait for him to finish the obvious lie, bumping his hip with her own.

"Really?" She gave him a look that caused him to slump a bit, the facade of strength diminishing slightly before returning. He stopped walking, turning to face the silver tressed woman.

"Really Kiima, I'll be alright, I've just got a lot on my mind. I... I just don't know how much things will have changed, whether this will still be the home I remember, or if there won't be anything left for me here, because if there isn't then well, I've got nowhere." He flinched as he felt the hand on his shoulder; he didn't want her to see the tears that he was attempting to throttle. Emotional stability had never been his strong point, and now, things were worse with the loss of the only pillars he'd ever known.

The hand on his shoulder transformed quickly into an embrace from behind, her warm breath tickling the short hair on his neck. Her words brushed his ear and sent shivers down his spine. He knew what she was doing, and appreciated it.

"You will always have a place Ranma, and you will always have someone." Her voice was soft, and he closed his eyes as the feeling of her aura pressed comfortingly against his own.

"Thank you Kiima, for everything." He turned in her embrace, and gazed at her, eyes lidded and heavy. Something in her drew him in, his brilliant blue eyes blazing as he gazed into her own silvery orbs. They inched closer to one another, an all-consuming gravity leading them to an inevitable end. Until, that is, a cough brought both to reality with a start, both jumping away from the other startled. As one their eyes turned to the third member of their party, who stood a short distance away with a knowing smile over his features.

"Are we ready to move on? Or shall I leave you two alone for a bit longer?" His tone was not accusatory, nor was it particularly innocent. The two in question burned crimson in embarrassment. Ranma opened his mouth first, used to such situations.

"Nothing was going on." He declared with a hint of steel in his voice, arguing with him would be dangerous Mu Tzu decided. With a light chuckle the blind weapon master continued along.

Less than a mile later they were walking down the outermost streets of the Special Ward of Tokyo named Nerima. It was early, and only the myriad salary men were on the streets, moving sedately toward the station, bound for their jobs, faceless in their sameness. Blazers only varied by color. Ranma had seen their kind many times in the past, as he was once of the sort to be up at the crack of dawn, whether due to his father's attempts to teach him "respect" or through various challenges issued by the multitudes of crazies that once dominated his life. He had seen every side of Nerima, and for once it seemed something he'd never really seen, normal. The unusual stores and vendors that were scattered through the ward seemed to have vanished. As they passed, Ranma gazed at the storefront that once housed a curio vendor, Kuno had bought the phoenix egg from this same place, now it was vacant, a sign declaring the open lease propped in the dusty window.

Things had changed, just as he'd feared, martial arts did not seem to be the focus of the residents if his senses were telling him anything. He could sense a few auras that were of any consequence, but not nearly as many as he knew must have once walked the ward. His sigh gave away a bit of depression, and it was almost an unconscious act to seek out Kiima's comfort. His fingers wiggled slightly where they hung while he walked, and without seeming to notice, the slender digits of the phoenix woman intertwined with his own.

Mu Tzu, for his part in things, remained silent this time as their childish displays of affection once again spilled over into the painfully obvious. He had hoped that some sort of resolution to this frankly uncomfortable romantic tension would have happened in their travels, but of course, he had forgotten how incredible Ranma's ability to either not notice, emotions of any sort. It was slightly embarrassing to watch, how he managed to fail to notice the attraction that was growing between them. Kiima, well, he wasn't sure about her. She showed all the same signs of attraction, and was never found very far from the anachronistic man, but she seemed content to let him decide the pace and structure of their relationship. As things stood they would be almost a century old before the pigtailed man finally noticed what was going on. The blush on their features earlier though, maybe things were as convoluted as they seemed.

The three continued walking, and before they knew it they were in the heart of the city, the old building front where the Ucchan's used to be was a sushi restaurant now. What once was the Nekohanten had been demolished at some point, the space filled with a sandlot playground. Had anything remained from his time here? Too soon they passed Furinkan High, the school, once a source of stress for Ranma was now something of a fondly remembered time. Things had been so simple then, so pure. Now... Now he didn't fit, didn't have a place. Kiima would stay with him, and that thought was sometimes what kept him moving forward. A glance down at their joined hands brought a gentle smile to his features, lightening his stormy mien. She had been a steadfast friend since he'd awoken, and though he didn't understand entirely why she was with him, he was glad that she was.

"Kiima..." She silenced him with a nod, understanding his unspoken request.

"Ranma, I'm sure that this will work out just fine. We'll get through this, together." She squeezed his hand, and he stepped uncertainly to the door of the Tendo Dojo.

**

* * *

**

Ryouga woke with the earliest bits of dawn, eyes snapping open and coming alert and focused in an instant. He could feel it, an aura that he hadn't felt in nearly twenty years. Ranma had entered Nerima. With mounting dread as he felt the power flare wildly for a moment, he rose from his bed. Akane would no doubt wake in a panic if left alone now, and so he reached a hand over to shake her, when instead of finding her rousing in her usual cat like fashion she instead was laying with her eyes opened dramatically wide in a look of utmost terror. Ranma had haunted her dreams for many years after leaving Jusendo. She could not seem to remember him as the carefree and steadfastly loyal man he'd been, instead she remembered the half c-conscious fever dreams from when she had been turned into a doll. She knew, academically that he was a great person, but every time she tried to remember those sweet moments from their engagement, she could only summon the wrathful mien of him enraged by Saffron. To her he had become nothing less than a deity of wrath and destruction, a reminder of terrible pain, and ceaseless struggle.

"Akane, it will be okay, I can feel him too, and instead of anger, I feel sadness. I don't think that he is what we should be afraid of." His words were confident, but behind the demeanor he presented to her he knew that he was anything but. He felt the niggling fear that he was perhaps wrong in his declaration. He could only go about his day as normal until the pigtailed man arrived, for he was undoubtedly coming here.

Akane for her part released a breath she did not know she had been holding, closing her eyes to settle the tremors of fear she felt running through her body. Once she had collected herself at least as much as she thought she could, she rose from her bed and moved to collect her bathing supplies. She and Ryouga had come to the same conclusion; they would soldier on, and face the situation as it developed.

A hot bath later, the martial artists went about their day, the anticipation making every moment seem to draw on for an eternity. Akane went to the kitchen to begin breakfast, years of practice and then-newfound patience helping her to learn the art that had long evaded her. It was chiefly due to her husband's diligence that she was able to realize her flaws. She had not been coddled by him once she had convinced him to seriously train her. He had been harsh, and shattered every illusion she had of her competency against opponents on his level. He had done exactly what Ranma would not, when she struck, he stood his ground and let her flail against his superior defense. It had taken her a month and a broken hand before she had come to realize that no matter what she did, she could not defeat him, and with that realization she understood why Ranma had never taken her seriously. It still infuriated her somewhat that her one-time fiancé never came out and told her, but she understood now that she never would have accepted his words; they were too unwelcome for the immature girl to accept. That realization though, that had shaken the cobwebs off her rational thought, and given her the means to become patient enough to understand her faults, and work to correct them. Learning to cook had taken the years between Ranma's death and Rei's second birthday. Her martial arts skills had grown similarly, and now she knew herself to be superior to the Ranma who once protected her.

Gazing out the kitchen window, her eyes came to rest on her daughter. Rei was a special girl, she knew now, and not merely the special that all children were to their parents, truly, the girl was gifted with a sight that neither of her parents truly understood. For now she went through her kata in the morning chill, steady and fluid in every movement. Prodigy was not strong enough a word to describe her ability in the martial arts, and admittedly, Akane feared her daughter's progress a bit. The adolescent was frighteningly capable in the Art, more so because her style was not something she could be taught, not by anyone living, at least, anyone that could have been considered living. Ranma's techniques were evident in her every movement.

The Hibiki style, one that had come to be merged with the Tendo school of Anything Goes, was fundamentally a style of overwhelming power and stability. Ranma's style, personalized from his father's Saotome style, was a combination of his own immense strength, but it focused on his adaptability, emphasized his unique and instinctive ability to understand the actions of his opponents. Combined with the incredible strength of his ki, the style was ephemeral. Every action changed it slightly, personalized it through the experience of the artist as they wove their way through life. Rei could not have understood when she began what she was undertaking, she was the second practitioner of Ranma's unique style, which embodied perfectly, yet transcended the essence of Musabetsu Kakuto Ryu.

At the same time, it was an unfinished style, tested yes, but unfinished. It was Ranma's force of will that kept him grounded, Akane realized, and if not for that same will, which saw him victorious without care for reason, he would have lost himself. The Mouko Takabisha was the best example of this, he could not duplicate Ryouga's technique as it was, so he took it and made it his own. Rei would need to find her own center, or else that style would consume her, and she would lose herself in the styles and attitudes of her opponents, lose sight of who she was, and be consumed by her own spirit. She would have to find herself, and understand her own heart before she could blend the skills of others. Akane feared, because what teenage girl could be said to know their own heart truly? Hopefully, Ranma's return would bring with him an answer to the question his school asked of its students.

"Damn you Ranma." She sobbed a bit, pained gaze on the shimmering ebony mane of her child as she flew through kata in the yard. "It's all your fault."

**

* * *

**

Khu Lon wished the two men had more news, but she was unsurprised by their lack of knowledge, the timeline of their journey had them dispatched before Herb went to Phoenix Mountain, before the fight between Ranma and their lord at Jusendo, and before the true threat of which prophecy spoke came awake once more in their world. Still, she could use them now, and would.

"Boy's would you do this old woman a favor?" She was by no means comely, and so did not go that route to gain their assistance, instead she played every bit the old woman, and in this year, old is truly how she felt. She needed them to deliver a message to Joketsuzoku, and to the Phoenix. Khu Lon would stand with the pigtailed warrior, and did not expect to return. Xian Pu must never know this, and so none of her sisters must know but for the matriarchs of the other families. She was council elder, and so matriarch of their people as whole, but the others would need to be warned of her departure, and elect new leadership.

The diminutive woman affected a wistful smile as she rested old eyes on her great-granddaughter. The woman she had become was a blessing to the elder's heart. Xian Pu had grown into a fine woman, and would do well as the next matriarch of their family. Khu Lon was proud, and promised herself she would see that Xian understood this before her time was through.

The coming days would be dark, but she had no doubt Ranma would prove the victor, no matter the cost. That boy had always had a way of finding strength from weakness. She would very much like to survive to see Xian's daughter compete in the village tournament.

Her reverie finished, she explained her need to the men, and with happy smiles both agreed without condition to deliver her messages. She knew they would keep their silence, they understood, and before departing the amazon camp, cast shameful glances at the lavender tressed woman. She would never know that her grandmother was preparing to die, and they would aid the old woman, one warrior to another, because she asked. Neither of the beast men wanted to see the look on the younger woman's face when the matriarch's plan came to fruition, losing family was always hard.

Khu Lon watched them depart, a burden lifted from her by the message they bore. Her affairs were in order, if she had to depart this life, she would face it like a warrior.

* * *

The well-aged woman prepared her morning tea in silence, her too large house cavernous in its emptiness. Mornings much like these she could not help but remember, and the haunting memories of her past, and of the family that was no longer there. She was a woman descended of Samurai, and in keeping with the noble breeding she was able to maintain her stoicism, even now when her heart wrenched with loss. She had broken down when they said her son was dead, she had wept and sobbed and keened. She cried for months, and then, she stopped. She would do her son no honor, nor cherish his memory weeping. She knew well the discomfort he felt at her pain, but it was a long time before she was able to become the strong figure she had been. In the time that he cared for her diligently, Genma, her so very flawed husband, wasted away without his son and heir. For all his failings, Genma had loved his son, and made their boy's success everything in his life. In taking care of her during her breakdown, he had fallen ill, and carried on in silence until his illness had progressed too far to be treated. In the end, she had convinced herself that he had died not of pneumonia that winter, she believed, that he had simply no longer wanted to live. With their son dead, Ranma's father could not bear to face the day, when she was finally able to function once more. Tendo had not survived his oldest friend by long, and during his last days, he had been delirious in his grief, unable to function. He had lost his wife, his daughters no longer needed him, not that he had been of much use to them in his life after, but with the loss of his oldest friend, and of their dream of unification, it had been certain that the arts Tendo had learned, mastered and improved, none would truly survive him. Ryouga and Akane's marriage had given him hope for the future, as had Akane's renewed training under her new husband.

Nodoka could not help but to smile, loving as she did Akane's daughter, the girl warmed her heart, and was so much like the little boy that Ranma had been before he and his father left. She had released tears of joy when the young couple asked her to be little Rei's grandmother, neither of them having parents of their own anymore. The little girl truly loved her 'baa-chan'. To her dismay, she had not taken time recently to visit them recently, and vowed to herself to rectify that soon, perhaps tomorrow.

But for this morning, she had an appointment with the local orphanage. She had come to volunteer at the orphanage when she had run into some of the children at a park. Those troubled youths had given her an outlet for the maternal feelings that she had never truly gotten to express to Ranma. She could give them affection - and starved for it - the children would eat it up greedily. It gave her peace to be able to help those children, though it hurt that she would never be able to hold her own child in her arms again.

* * *

_Nerima, Tokyo_

The worn sign that had hung there when he had arrived so long ago was still there, though faded considerably in the years that had passed since he'd last seen it. That thought was just another reminder that he had been gone a great deal longer than the two months that it felt to him. That threatened him with another bout of depression. He couldn't think like that, though the stormy expression budding on his face lifted when he felt the squeeze of Kiima's hand in his. That gave him strength, and when he squeezed back, she smiled at him before he took his hand from hers and lifted it to the gate, knocking three times loudly. He swallowed heavily, taking a deep breath that he forgot to let out for several moments. This was it, his panic moment, if he didn't flee now, the gate would open and everything would be confirmed for him, he couldn't pretend in his heart that this was anything other than a depressing reality.

The moment was stolen from him, as seconds after his fist left the gate, he could hear someone approaching. They were smaller than anyone who should be here, and the cold knot in Ranma's stomach grew heavier. Whoever it was didn't bother asking who it was, instead opening the gate quickly. The heavy wooden portal swung open into the yard, and standing before him was a child, only a few years younger than him actually, well, not anymore. Shaking his head to clear the confusing train of thought from his mind, he opened to introduce himself.

"I'm..." The girl cut him off, excitement written across her features.

"Saotome Ranma." She spoke, the smile threatening to split her features. "I can't believe you're really here." The girl was nearly vibrating in place. Confused, the raven haired man spoke again.

"Can we come in?" She knew who he was, so maybe this wouldn't be as the dread situation he imagined.

"Sure." Her voice was level now, calm. She seemed to have gotten her excitement contained, and allowed them passed her as she closed the gate. Ranma, for his part, was moving into the yard to stare at the koi pond that he was so very familiar with when it happened.

Kiima could only stare as the girl who'd greeted them with such enthusiasm launched herself across the yard to attack Ranma, foot leading as she unleashed her martial prowess on the unsuspecting man.

Mu Tzu chuckled, observing the growing fight between the kid, Akane's by the look of her, and Ranma. It wasn't going anything like the fight's between him and the unskilled that he'd seen in years past. This kid was good, though her style was familiar, and not to either of her parents. He couldn't put his finger on it. Her ki was pulsing oddly as well, and he saw what it was after a few moments.

Their heartbeats, they had synchronized, and so their martial dance had become an interesting duet. Ranma never attacked the girl, evading each attack she sent at him by a hairsbreadth. The blind man could not see his expression, obviously, but the feel in his ki was familiar enough. Ranma was perplexed by this match, though why, Mu Tzu could not discern. The girl, for all her skill could hope only to get the pigtailed man's clothes dirty, and only by kicking up dust. Her well placed strikes were not swift enough to touch the man, though she did not seem over concerned about that fact.

"Rei, that's enough!" The stern voice of her father couldn't truly reach her, though her opponent seemed to hear what he was saying, and stopped her next punch with a single finger.

"Play time is over kid." He said seriously, before turning his head to the man who'd emerged from the house.

"Ryouga?" Seeing the recognition in the other man's eyes begin to light up, Ranma tried to break the tension he felt.

"You've gotten old, man." The confidence in his voice and face didn't reach beyond the physical. He was nervous, though nothing about him betrayed that. The fanged martial artist was dumbstruck for a moment, before he threw his hands in the air and laughed. Ranma's barb did exactly what the man had intended, it gave them an easy place to begin.

Their banter was doomed from the start, and before he could respond, the pigtailed man's glance slid past him, and rested somewhere that caused a cloud of something not quite distinguishable to pass over his features. Ryouga understood immediately what happened, turning, he reached for Akane, who stood frozen in the doorway. She had dreaded Ranma's return, far more than was reasonable, he couldn't understand it, and would not explain.

Breaking his gaze away from Akane, Ranma instead turned his eyes on the young girl, the couple's child he thought a touch of jealousy.

"Who taught you those moves?" He demanded of the girl, who shrunk a bit in on herself.

The girl mumbled something into her collar, scuffing her feet in the dust. Ranma's calloused hand clamped down on her shoulder, anger written across his features as his aura began to leak out of him.

"Y-you did." She spoke, shakily at first, and then at length. "You left a piece of yourself in the dojo, and I learned from watching your training." She finished strongly, her confidence returning as she gathered her spirit. Ranma, confused and worried, gazed at the girl, cocking his head to one side.

"Call out your aura." He said sternly, a master calling out a pupil. Ryouga frowned, and looked about to say something until he felt his wife squeeze his hand. He took a moment to glance at her, finding her shaking her head at him. Akane knew something he didn't, and they would wait until later to discuss it. With a sigh and grimace, the fanged martial artist turned his disapproving gaze back on the scene before him with his daughter and oldest friend.

Rei turned to look at her father, and seeing his stony gaze, returned to looking at Ranma. She did as he commanded then, calling within herself for the wellspring of her spirit. She knew where her power lay, though it was inconsistent in its willingness to respond to her command. She felt nervous; would she be able to pull it off with her hero standing there? She felt uneasy, and her empty stomach threatened to rebel. Her concentration faltered, and the power that she had been coaxing vanished. She opened her eyes, looking up into the impatient storm of Ranma's blue-grey orbs. A breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding expelled violently from her lips. Drawing in another deep breath she felt his gaze piercing her, she wanted to look away, but felt it in her soul that if she did she would lose any respect he might hold for her.

She could do this, she knew she could, she'd done it countless times since she'd learned how. She knew she could, she had performed a technique more complex against her father only days ago. She had no doubt, refused to acknowledge doubt, and then she felt it again, the confidence, the power. Acting then upon that certainty she grasped her ki, felt it sing in her veins, as it burst forth. It was not the bonfire that her father suppressed, nor was it the potent flame her mother could summon, but it was there, it was enough. Time stood still, and she kept her eyes locked with his, though she knew her brow was screwed up in concentration, her focus requiring too much to do anything but stare at him with the defiance she felt. She would prove herself.

Ranma gazed at this girl, who inexplicably knew his style. She knew the motions, and he could see from her eyes that she understood the philosophy. He had created the kata and techniques of his nameless style to be his master stroke, his contribution to the Anything Goes. These techniques, once complete would have seen him a master, a worthy peer to his father who had created a style too potent for use, and sealed them away. The Umisenken and Yamasenken had to be sealed away because they proved too dangerous for use even by the trained, ambition and weakness in the heart would corrupt and destroy the user. His style had the same problem. He had never gotten the opportunity to complete it.

"That's enough." He said roughly, seeing the signs he had feared to see in the girl's aura. She had used the style too much, and was too receptive to her opponent. Already he knew that the defiance and confidence that she felt were not her own, they were his. Her confidence left unchecked would become arrogance, which would become her destruction. He didn't know for certain how to correct it, hadn't had someone other than himself to see the problem truly. Now he had that pupil.

His thoughts were interrupted as he gazed up at Ryouga, and found his eyes instead drawn to Akane. She knew. He realized with dread. She saw the techniques for what they were, self-destructive. He remembered the past with a smile. Akane, for all her stubborn pride and anger, had known him well, better than any but his father. That was the past.

"I can do it, but you'll need to work with me…" He'd already forgotten the girl's name; his memory for names had never improved. She though seemed to sense this, and turned her gaze to her parents. Ryouga looked dubious, though when he looked from his wife to his best friend he felt those doubts vanish. Ranma had never failed in anything he set himself to do, even when it had cost his life.

"Rei, you'll be training with Ranma while he's staying here." Ryouga sketched a quick glance at the long haired man, who subtly nodded to him after looking for the same from the platinum haired woman.

Rei felt the weight crash against her as she realized that she would now be training, not under the tutelage of a memory, but under her style's master. Saotome Ranma had been a legend that none could match, and now he was a titan before her. She knew that the training would be intense, but the confidence that she felt made her sure that she would prevail. She would earn his respect.

* * *

_Location Unknown_

Happousai awoke, his entire body screaming in agony, but there was more of it. Beneath the terrible pain he knew that his wish had been granted. Struggling against the new sensations of vitality and drained strength he turned his head. Elder Hwai Nyu Ren, though she looked nothing like an elder now, writhed under the same feeling of brutalization. Happousai felt something in himself stir that hadn't in decades, her lithe body was not covered nearly as well as it had been before. The robe that had been volumous on her tiny frame before was tantalizingly short now. Ratty white hair had darkened to a deep pink, and skin folded and wrinkled like parchment had smoothed, moisture and youth suited her well, and the way her body moved…

A shiver ran through Happy as he felt his loins stir. Glorious vitality! The feeling was too much for him, and though pain dominated his existence, something more primal flooded him. Fighting his weakness, he moved to the woman, who he now saw was awake. Her eyes locked with his, and in them he saw the same carnal desires.

As they joined, and the lust peaked, both felt the other presence among them. It was a demon, a primordial evil that they had unleashed, malignance warped their perceptions, bent their attention to a being of indescribable horror. It took the shape of a man, though that was where the resemblance to a mortal ended. The flesh was as shadows, without true definition, and there seemed to be something moving beneath the surface. A statue of deepest obsidian, though it did not shine in the light. The awesome power the thing radiated forced their verve to subside, and they parted, yearning welling up within them as the magnificence of their newfound physicality vanished. Still, the abyss demanded their attention. Its will struck them, and they were bent into subservience. Hawi Nyu Ren first found her voice, and quavering, she spoke.

"What is thy bidding, my master?"

To Be Continued…

A/N: Wow, this didn't come out quite the way I wanted, but I feel it's close enough. I've got a 16 unit course load right now, so it's kind of hectic for me. Hope you all enjoy. Oh! Please review, yeah?


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